


Wild Eyed Dreamers

by actingwithportals



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Background Relationships, Established Relationship, Family Bonding, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sibling Bonding, Sickfic, Silksong spoilers, sibling shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:08:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 59
Words: 28,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24862048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actingwithportals/pseuds/actingwithportals
Summary: Laughter and tears and all of the precious moments in-between.(Collection of drabbles requested from Tumblr and Discord.)
Relationships: Broken Vessel | Lost Kin & Hornet, Broken Vessel | Lost Kin & Myla (Hollow Knight), Broken Vessel | Lost Kin & The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel, Broken Vessel | Lost Kin/Tiso, Cloth & Myla (Hollow Knight), Greenpath Vessel & Nailmaster Sheo (Hollow Knight), Grimm/The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel, Grimmchild & The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel, Herrah the Beast & Hornet (Hollow Knight), Herrah the Beast & The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel, Herrah the Beast & The Knight, Hornet & Lord of Shades (Hollow Knight), Hornet & Seer (Hollow Knight), Hornet & The Knight (Hollow Knight), Monomon the Teacher & Quirrel (Hollow Knight), Monomon the Teacher & White Lady (Hollow Knight), Quirrel & Tiso (Hollow Knight), The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel & Hornet, The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel & Hornet & The Knight, The Hollow Knight | Pure Vessel & The Knight, The Knight & The Pale King (Hollow Knight)
Comments: 185
Kudos: 435





	1. Give Me Tall!

**Author's Note:**

> I opened for drabble requests last week and got quite the handful, so I've decided to post them all here for easier reading. This will also act as a buffer for me, in a way, because the pieces in my main series are quite long and sometimes draining to write. Updates are going to be slow there for a while, but I still wanted to post some things for you guys. If you've seen my posts on tumblr or are in the wonwan discord, you'll already know what these are. Some light edits might be made just for polishing-sake.
> 
> I hope you accept this gift from me for my slowness with my main series updates ;-;

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hornet and Ghost having some good sibling bonding time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon.
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“Don’t even try it.”

Ghost gave her a look that was somewhere between pleading and mischief, which was impressive considering their mask should not have been able to indicate either. But they were always full of such surprises (and mischief, for that matter).

“Ghost, I am trying to knit,” Hornet huffed, holding up the silk in her hands as if for emphasis. “Besides, you’re tall enough. You have no reason to steal any more tall-juice-or-whatever-in-Wyrm’s-name-you-call-it from me.”

Their sibling leaned closer towards her, more insistently now. _How did they make those eyeless holes in their mask look so tearful?_

“Pale Light doesn’t even work that way,” Hornet argued, slamming her knitting down to push Ghost back. “I do not possess enough Light to further your growth; you’d have better luck resting against Hollow.”

Ghost shook their head vigorously, picking up one hand from where it supported their weight underneath them to sign, “They already said no, to ask sister. I’m asking sister. Give me tall.”

“You are tall enough, already!”

“Want to be taller!”

“Ugh!” Hornet groaned, flopping back against her pillows. “Fine. But when you don’t grow an inch because – once again, I do not have enough Pale Light to assist in this – do not whine to me about your plights.”

Ghost’s void purred in delight as they leaped forward, landing on Hornet’s front with an audible _“oof!”_ from her as the air was forced out of her lungs.

“Do that once more and I will kill you,” she wheezed, pushing them so that their entire weight was not pressing down onto her carapace.

Ghost answered by wrapping an arm around her thorax, lifting their other hand to say, “I love you too,” before letting it drop to wrap around her as well.

Honestly, siblings.


	2. I'm Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herrah watches over a sick Ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Skye
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

Herrah never would have thought gods could get sick, yet her daughter’s sibling was proving her wrong in the most elaborate way possible.

Ghost had been confined to bed rest for two days now, thoroughly wrapped in as many blankets as Hornet and Hollow could force around them and surrounded by more pillows than Herrah was even aware were _in_ the Den at all. Honestly, where had they found so many pillows?

It was her turn to watch over them, her two other children having gone out to hunt or otherwise assist with the needs of her people in the Village today. The Vessel that still remained here was resting before her, scrunched up as small as they possibly could, it seemed. They had earlier complained of feeling too warm, and a great pressure that pressed down against their shell, but now they appeared to be almost shivering in cold.

What sort of ailments did void gods even catch?

“Are you still feeling warm?” she asked, kneeling down on the floor beside them.

They shook their head, curling up more tightly in their blanket cocoon.

“Are you too cold, then?” she asked.

They nodded.

“Hmm,” she reached forward, holding her arms so that they could see her clearly as she approached. When they did not react negatively, she picked them up from their nest and held them against her thorax, blankets and all.

As if on instinct, Ghost snuggled firmly against her, their claws latching onto her hood.

So much like their taller sibling.

“I’m here,” she whispered. “It’s all right. It will pass soon.”

Herrah never thought she would need to comfort a god, but her life had always been full of surprises, hadn’t it?


	3. Keep You Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tiso worries over a sick Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Spot
> 
> AU: Wondrous Wanders (by CosmeerSpots; go check it out!)

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say you are sick.”

Brooks held up a single claw in Tiso’s general direction, one that distinctly looked like the middle one. How mature.

“I’m serious, you’ve been out for at least eighteen hours,” Tiso argued, crossing his arms in what felt way too much like a facsimile of Brooks’ sister. “I would tell you to get off of your ass if I weren’t actually getting a bit weirded out by it.”

Brooks rolled over, turning their back to him and lifting the same claw again.

“Don’t make me come over there,” Tiso threatened.

One arm lifted in the air, a fist tightly closed with the smallest claw held up and facing inwards was moved towards themself twice in what was clearly an aggressive manner.

Tiso didn’t need a translation to understand the challenge.

“Think I won’t take you up on that?” he asked, walking over to them and kneeling down on the nest where they lay. “I’m not above throwing down with a sick person, you know.”

Brooks rolled over just enough to meet his eyes, and Tiso could swear that if they had more thorough abilities to emote they would be smirking, the bastard.

“Alright, so sick enough to be moping, but not enough to be docile, got it,” he muttered. “But before I kick your ass, should I get you anything? Nourishment? Your sister? The little one with the freaky void stuff?”

The fight went out of Brooks’ eyes just slightly, and they shook their head in the negative.

“Alright, then scoot over,” Tiso said, settling into the nest beside them. “We’ll fight when you’re on your feet so it’s fair. Until then, I’ll keep you company.”

He almost expected them to argue, but instead they turned back towards him and grasped at his hood, sinking into his side.

This would be fine for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sign Broo does is a one-handed "fight" (my descriptions are not the best here, I apologize).


	4. A Better Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herrah has a conversation with Monomon and Lurien after they have all woken from the Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

Herrah looked between the two bugs standing before her, tapping the claws of one hand impatiently against another arm.

“So. You, um, adopted the Pure Vessel, I see?”

 _The Watcher had clearly not developed much more of a spine during his sleep,_ she noted. _How insufferable._

“Yes, I have,” Herrah answered him, a hint of challenge in her voice. “What of it?”

“Well it—um, seems a bit odd, don’t you think?” Lurien asked, his cloak shifting around him in what Herrah had long since learned was a tell of discomfort. She had seen him behave this way numerous times in her direct presence before, and it both pleased and infuriated her in equal measure.

Herrah’s claws now clicked more threateningly against her chitin. “And what do you mean by ‘odd’?”

Lurien fidgeted, almost shrinking under her glare. Not that he was particularly sizable to begin with, not from her perspective at least.

“I think what Lurien is getting at is that we . . . did not expect you to feel so maternally towards the Vessel,” the Teacher explained, much more coolly than the City Watcher could ever claim to speak in Herrah’s direction.

She fixed her gaze to Monomon now; less of a glare and more of confounded exhaustion. “You didn’t expect me, a mother, to feel motherly towards my own daughter’s sibling?” she asked, her tone lacking the offense she could feel building up in lieu for deadpanned confusion.

Monomon did not seem the least bit put off by her response; in fact she almost seemed amused. Herrah couldn’t judge her too harshly for that; at least she wasn’t cowering like the Watcher. “You do not exactly exude affection, your Majesty.”

Herrah huffed, the click of her claws echoing in the room in a staccato beat that mirrored her own disquiet. “Perhaps we define affection differently, then,” she said. “But that should hardly come as a surprise; after all, we are all three of very different minds.”

“Indeed, we are,” Monomon agreed. “And perhaps that is why we might work well together to pave a better future for what is left of our homes.”

Herrah hummed a note of agreement. The prospect was daunting (working with either in any capacity always had been), but if they could build a better world for those left alive after the Infection – a better world for her children – she would do it.

Without a doubt.


	5. Art Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Greenpath Vessel spends quality time with their family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now
> 
> (spoilers for the series, I guess)

“What are you painting, little one?”

They looked up from their canvas to where Sheo was standing by their stool, leaning over to inspect their work. It was by no means near completion, and it actually looked more like a mess of colors and lines more than anything else, but Sheo never once made them feel like their art wasn’t worth praising, no matter what stage it might be in currently.

They held up the canvas for him to see, angling it in his direction for a moment before turning it to the direction of the Nailsmith who sat on a stool next to them.

“Beautiful, little one!” Sheo exclaimed. “Your skills haven’t rusted even in the slightest, I see.”

They beamed up at the nailmaster, something akin to pride swelling inside of their void. Oh, how they missed hearing his encouragements.

“One day, you might even be better than Sheo, here,” the Nailsmith said, nodding in his partner’s direction. “It would be fitting for the pupil to surpass the master, after all.”

“Nothing would make me prouder,” Sheo agreed, placing a hand on the top of their mask and rubbing affectionately. “Perhaps someday you could share your skills with your other siblings? I know that little knight has already learned much from me, but the taller one and your sister would be happy to learn too, I hope? And the other one as well?”

They nodded emphatically, the thought of all of their family coming together to create art in one place almost overwhelming them with feelings of joy.

They couldn’t imagine a situation that would make them happier.


	6. Darkness Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herrah's first thoughts upon waking from the Dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

Herrah hadn’t expected to see the dark again.

Golden light had become all that she had seen in the dream. Long had the Light crested over the horizon as the Radiance grew in power, a sure sign of the Vessel she guarded steadily failing.

The dark should have been a long-lost memory.

But here it was, a darkness that fell over Herrah’s eyes like a comforting blanket, punctured only by pinpricks of lights that – as her eyes adjusted – she knew to be candles burning with the familiar scent of wax made from honey of the Hive.

Gifts from a love she had not seen in far too long.

Never had Herrah dreamt of those candles, of the smell of that love. And she had become intimately familiar with dreams enough to know now that what she saw before her, what she felt beneath her, were no falsities created by the mind.

The world around her was real, and that meant she had awoken.

That shouldn’t be possible. The seal of binding that had been placed over her was not something that could be so easily undone, unless the Pale King Himself saw to it. And Herrah did not feel His presence in this place. Had the Vessel fully succumbed, and the Radiance burned away the last of His light? No, if that were the case, Herrah herself should be nothing more than ashes or – worse – an infected husk.

What had woken her, then? What amount of power could contend with that of a god? Another god? That deity of nightmares, perhaps?

If Herrah was awake – alive somehow – what did that mean for the state of her queendom? What did that mean for Deepnest?

_Where was her daughter?_

Herrah shot up, her body cracking and groaning in objection from years of disuse. She did not pay these tolls any mind. There was only one thing she cared about in that moment.

And she would tear through all of Hallownest and any gods in between who tried to stop her.


	7. No Harm Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghost is still offended by Midwife having tried to eat them in the past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Ravie
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“Midwife tried to _what?_ ”

“Eat. Me,” Ghost signed, pointing between her and themself and waving their stubby little arms emphatically. As if their words alone did not get the point across well enough.

“Oh, there’s no need to be so dramatic,” Midwife argued. “I didn’t even take a bite.”

“You tried!” the little terror accused, their blank mask somehow conveying more emotion than Midwife had ever thought possible, regarding her previous experience with the child. Perhaps it had something to do with the void that settled more thoroughly inside their carapace now. Or perhaps it was simply because they felt more comfortable to express themself in front of their sister.

“Ah, but I did not succeed,” Midwife continued. “No harm done; wouldn’t you say?”

“No!” they snapped their fingers shut in forced, repetitive motions. “Much harm done! Internal harm! Feelings harmed!”

“I am sorry, Little Ghost,” Hornet said sympathetically. “Would it make things better if she were to apologize?”

The small Vessel looked between their sister and Midwife, their eyeless stare eventually falling solely on her and scrutinizing her with that rippled darkness.

Midwife had to resist the urge to shudder.

“I am certain she did not mean any real offense,” Hornet explained. “Midwife is not cruel for the sake of it. And she would not make such attempts again. Isn’t that right?”

The last words were directed to her, and they dripped with a sharp warning. Ah, so much like her mother. Midwife couldn’t deny the pride she felt at hearing that tone, even if it was aimed her way. “Of course,” she agreed. “I would never wish to harm our princess’s dear sibling.”

The little Ghost continued to glare at her, but something in their shoulders seemed to decide to relax, even if only slightly. With a moment more of hesitation, they slowly nodded.

“Good,” Hornet said, looking from them back to her. “Well? Let’s have it, then.”

Midwife sighed, a deep, longsuffering sound. “I sincerely apologize to the Little Ghost of Hallownest, Lord of Shades and God of Void, elder – yet smaller – sibling to my dear princess and daughter of my closest friend. I swear that I will never again attempt to take a bite out of you and will instead seek prey elsewhere. Is that satisfactory?”

The Vessel seemed to consider her words for a moment before slowly nodding, the tension in their shell reducing. They looked between herself and Hornet once more, returning their gaze back to Midwife long enough to sign, “I accept,” before running back off into the Den.

Cheeky little thing. Was that all they had to say after such a heartfelt apology?

Midwife huffed. “I think I like your taller sibling better,” she grumbled.

Hornet shook her head, the tips of her claws rubbing small circles against the point of her mask between her eyes.

Yes, siblings were exhausting, weren’t they? Especially little menaces who also happened to be gods.

Midwife couldn’t help but wonder for the rest of the day just what a god would taste like.


	8. Time For Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herrah juggles her three sleeping children, taking them to bed after a long day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

The silk in Herrah’s claws suddenly pulled taut.

She looked down, confused for a moment before noticing the Vessel sitting in her lap had fallen over, their little mask planting firmly onto the line of her silk.

Ah, it must be late.

“I see the tolls of the day have finally caught up to your little sibling,” she commented to Hornet, who sat beside her working on another corner of the tapestry laid out before them. By the way her mask had begun to droop, and her claws slowed in their weaving, her daughter wasn’t fairing much better.

It had been a long day, after all.

Hornet didn’t answer Herrah’s words, and that was sign enough that it was time for the night to come to an end. Careful so as not to disturb the sleeping Vessel in her lap, Herrah neatly laid out the silk onto the floor in front of her, untangling the strands she had been weaving from her claws, and gently nudged the other Vessel seated beside her with the arm that had been wrapped around their shoulders.

“Time for bed,” she told them softly, their own mask drooping in their fatigue.

Hollow nodded slowly, as if needing a moment to register the words before sitting up straighter and removing their own corner of silk from their lap. They began to rise but got little further than getting their feet underneath themself before collapsing back against her side.

It really had been quite a long day, hadn’t it?

Herrah hummed; this certainly was turning into a predicament. No matter; she didn’t have six arms and an impressive stature for intimidation only. Scooping up Ghost with one arm and holding them snugly against her front, she reached out another towards Hornet, who wordlessly followed the unspoken offer and was promptly tucked against her thorax as well.

Now just for the bigger one.

“Hollow, lean against by back and wrap your arm around me,” Herrah instructed, turning so that her back was facing towards them. “Not too tightly, just enough to be secure.”

They complied without much hesitation, doing as told and resting their mask against her so that it was just above the tip of Hornet’s horns. With remarkably little effort, Herrah rose to standing with her lower two legs, lifting her three slumbering – or nearly there – children with her.

The movement caused Ghost to stir, but only enough to encourage them to snuggle more firmly against her carapace, little claws latching onto her hood. Hornet as well shifted slightly until she found a more comfortable position, reaching out a hand to rest against Ghost’s back. At some point on the way to Hornet’s room, Hollow had wrapped their legs around Herrah’s lower half, careful so as not to impede her walking, but held firmly all the same. Judging by the way she felt their arm trembling against her, the effort to latch on was one they wouldn’t be able to hold for long.

Hmm. She would have to find a solution to this in the future.

Hornet was carefully placed in her nest, her blankets pulled up snugly around her and her pillows sufficiently fluffed for maximum comfort. By the time Herrah reached the Vessels’ room, she was starting to fear Hollow might not be able to hold on long enough for her to carefully set them down.

Quickening her movements as much as she could without jostling either Vessel, Herrah knelt down by their nest, close enough for Hollow to simply let go and fall onto their blankets. Once they were securely tucked in, she lowered the sleeping Ghost down next to them, certain to place them within close reach of their taller sibling.

“Sleep well, my children,” Herrah whispered, resting a hand against each mask before rising to standing again. She doubted she had made it out of the room before Hollow was equally as asleep as Ghost.

She really was going to have to come up with a more secure way of carrying all three of them at once; if her intuition was correct, this was likely to become a more common occurrence.

Herrah didn’t think she minded that.


	9. One Small Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hornet bakes cookies with her siblings for the first time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Laurie
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“Have you washed your hands?”

Ghost looked up at her, their empty gaze holding nothing but unsuspecting innocence. The liar.

“Go wash your hands before sticking them into the dough,” Hornet instructed, pointing towards the direction of the sink. “I have no idea where those hands have been, and quite frankly I do not wish to ask.”

With a defeated drop of their mask, Ghost jumped down from the stool they had been standing upon and dejectedly walked towards the sink. Hornet took the bowl where it had been left and began kneading the mixture, expertly mingling together any last remaining clumps of sugar and butter into something more homogenous.

Perhaps they could include bits of honeycomb? That would be a nice addition.

“Hollow, stop trying to eat the raw dough!” Hornet snapped, swatting away her taller sibling’s hand that had crept towards the bowl, clearly itching for another taste. “I promise, the cookies will taste much better once they have been properly cooked. And if you keep eating what we have here we will not have enough to actually bake anything!”

Hollow dipped their mask down to her eye level, giving her that pleading look they had somehow perfected over the past several weeks. Even Ghost couldn’t manage such a pitiful expression.

“Do not give me that,” she scolded them. “You can be patient and wait until they are done.”

They inched closer to her, lightly bumping their mask against hers. Lifting their hand again, they signed, “Starving, sister. Haven’t eaten in three weeks.”

“That is a lie and you know it,” Hornet snapped. “Midwife made us all honey treats just yesterday.”

Hollow bumped their mask against hers again, more insistently now. “Sister cares not for me? Sister wishes me to starve?”

Hornet groaned, pushing the bowl in their direction. “One _small_ taste, and that’s it,” she grumbled. “After that, no more until they are fully prepared.”

Hollow beamed, nuzzling the tip of their mask against one of her horns. “Sister loves me! Sister loves me!”

“Was it ever debatable?” she muttered, crossing her arms in an attempt to appear indignant. “Ghost, are your hands finally clean now?”

Ghost walked up to her other side, holding up their hands so that she could see fresh water dripping from their claws.

“Good, now please finish mixing the dough before our sibling eats it all,” Hornet instructed.

Ghost nodded, jumping back up onto their stool and pulling the bowl away from Hollow, who gave them such a forlorn look Hornet would have thought they had been slighted, if she didn’t know any better.

Honestly, where had her siblings gotten their dramatics? Certainly not their father; Hornet did not share such loathsome qualities, after all.

She turned away from them to light the oven, coaxing the fire to just the right heat to bake the cookies thoroughly without burning. By the time she looked back behind her, Hollow once again had their hand in the bowl, while Ghost watched on with unmistakable amusement.

_“Ghost of Hallownest, what did I just say?!”_


	10. Another Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herrah the Beast meets Grimmchild for the first time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“What . . . is that?”

The little flaming terror was circling around Ghost’s mask, chirping erratically. Herrah had heard of the flames of the Nightmare King before but had never been subjected to them – nor a kin of his troupe – until now. She was certain she’d had enough of gods for one lifetime.

Ghost looked up at her quizzically for a moment before signing, “Grimmchild. They’re mine now.”

“Is that so?” Herrah asked, tapping her claws against an arm in contemplation. “And what of their predecessors?”

The little Vessel looked down, and Herrah immediately knew her question had touched something sore. She would have to tread the subject lightly from now on, it seemed. As for the child themself, they did not appear to be the slightest bit fazed, zipping around the room in excited curiosity, and – Herrah having to snap her jaws shut from growling a scold at them – spewing little gusts of flames at their apparent irregular fancy. A terror indeed.

“Gone,” Ghost answered simply. “I look after them now.”

Herrah nodded; that was something she could understand. “Do you intend to have the child stay here?” she asked.

Ghost looked around the room for a moment, taking in the numerous tapestries hanging from the walls and the stacks upon stacks of yet unused silks. The issue at hand seemed to finally occur to them.

“We can stay . . . not here?” they asked, turning back to her and tilting their mask in obvious question. “Somewhere not Deepnest?”

Herrah was silent for a moment, considering their words. No, that would simply not do. Though she would not enforce anything onto them, the thought of Hollow living anywhere outside of her easy reach filled her with unease, and the taller Vessel would certainly not be happy to hear of their smaller sibling leaving so soon after having returned, would likely follow after their path no matter where it led. Hornet would be more understanding, but Herrah knew her well enough to anticipate her daughter’s own displeasure with the idea.

Adjustments to the interior decorating could be made.

Herrah shook her head. “We will make the necessary alterations,” she told them. “For now, perhaps impress to them that fire and silk are very rarely friends.”

The little Vessel raised their mask in obvious elation, turning away from her to catch the attention of their charge. The little terror swooped back down to Ghost’s level, giving them their undivided attention as they relayed Herrah’s words. When the message had been conveyed, the vessel of flame turned their attention to her, shooting up towards her face with a chirp and flying laps around her horns.

She supposed that was their form of agreement on the matter?

“Grimmchild says thank you, new mom,” Ghost translated for her. Somehow, they almost looked cheeky.

Herrah did her best to hold back a snort. Another child, then? Midwife was going to have either an aneurism or a celebration at this rate.

The little terror stopped their erratic flight to rest on the place between her horns, the heat of the flames that gave them life warming her shell.

Perhaps some gods could be tolerable.


	11. The Dark Observed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something visits Hollow in the dead of night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

Some nights the Vessel did not dream.

Those nights were their favorite. Sleep uninterrupted by flashes of memories or phantom pains were blessings they tried very hard not to take for granted. But sometimes that meant those nights were spent lying awake instead, and when left alone in their darkened room with nothing but their own, faulty thoughts, it could almost be equally as unsettling as dreaming.

This night would have been no different, if not for the dark suddenly feeling _heavier._

They couldn’t place it at first, but as the presence of the dark molded into something distinctly more tangible, the nature of it became clear.

Void.

They did not move, did not dare to give whatever watched them a reason to believe they were anything more than a thoughtless statue. They had felt this before – this exact presence – but it had been a longer time ago than they wanted to recount. Before the Infection, before Hallownest, before the Pure Vessel.

Before Him.

The dark shifted, mutated and solidified into something terrible and with too many eyes. The Vessel did not move, did not cower.

But it was a near thing.

The eyes watched them, narrowed in apparent scrutiny, and it felt to the Vessel like the mind they shouldn’t have was being laid bare for the dark to see, to poke at and dig into, until it found every last scrap. Until it took everything that they were, had been, could be.

The Vessel shuddered, their grip on the blanket their sister’s mother had given them tightening and threatening to tear under their claws.

The dark observed, shifted back, pure white eyes widening for a moment before lowering again to slits.

And then the dark went away.

The Vessel did not move again for the rest of the night. And when their sister came to find them in the morning, they still did not move for a while to come.


	12. Small Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quirrel learns a few new things about Ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Compy
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“And now you’re . . . small again?”

Ghost nodded, their little body bobbing along with the movement. They pointed back to the Pure—no, that wasn’t right. To Hollow, before turning to Quirrel once more and signing, “I like being smaller than them. Excuse to be carried.”

“I see,” Quirrel said, scratching his chin in thought. “I’ll admit, I had thought you seemed perfectly content during your journey to run everywhere on your own two feet.”

Ghost waved their hand back and forth in a noncommittal gesture. “Busy, then. Less busy now. Time to be carried.”

“Of course,” Quirrel agreed, though he still didn’t quite feel like he fully understood. “As long as it isn’t a bother to your sibling, I suppose.”

The little vessel turned back to their sibling, tilting their mask in what Quirrel guessed was a questioning expression. Hollow’s only answer was to shrug, which seemed to please Ghost well enough.

“Couldn’t fit in sister’s home if big,” Ghost continued, looking back to Quirrel now. “Sister’s mom says, _‘too big, wouldn’t fit’_.”

Quirrel considered this for a moment, turning his head to look at where the Beast stood some paces away, talking with Monomon and Hornet standing at her side. She wasn’t exactly . . . small – her stature having been one of the few things Quirrel could distinctly remember about her – but based on the form he had seen his small friend take on those days ago now, even the Beast’s height paled in comparison.

Yes, he doubted such a creature could fit in the tunnels of Deepnest without causing serious structural damage.

“I believe she would be right,” Quirrel said, nodding in agreement. “I imagine it is a struggle enough for you to maneuver in her Den, isn’t it Hollow?”

The taller vessel was still for a moment before nodding slowly. Well, that was likely the most thorough answer he would get out of them at the time. Perhaps they would warm up to him after a while?

With a glance back to Monomon, noting the way she and the Beast had become engaged in what appeared to be a very in-depth discussion, Quirrel had a feeling there would be many opportunities in the future for such a chance.

He thought he might like that.


	13. Honey With Your Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hornet visits one of Ghost's friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon, further prompted by the WonWan discord server
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

The Resting Grounds were not a part of Hallownest Hornet visited often, but necessity found her there today.

Well, at least she told herself it was necessity. There was supposedly an old moth here that her smaller sibling liked to visit often, and she couldn’t ignore the twinge of discomfort at the thought of allowing them to continue this endeavor without some sort of intervention.

Not that she didn’t trust the moth, but . . . well, she didn’t trust the moth.

However, after making their introductions and being invited to sit and have tea, Hornet’s nerves began to ease, albeit minimally.

“You take honey with your tea?” the old moth – Seer – asked her, bringing two cups over to place before where they both sat.

Hornet nodded shortly. “Yes,” she answered. “You’ve managed to hold onto some during the stasis?”

Seer laughed, an old crackly sound that should have grated against Hornet’s nerves, but instead made something in her feel settled. How bothersome. “You don’t live to be as old as I without gaining some wisdom, child,” she said. “And the wisest thing you can do is hold onto what’s dearest to you. In my case, a lasting few jars of honey from the Hive’s prime.” She laughed again. Hornet did her best not to wince.

“Indeed,” she halfheartedly agreed, not entirely able to find fault in the old moth’s logic. “Though by now I doubt you can hardly be considered much older than myself.”

Seer settled herself on the pillow placed across from Hornet, stirring first Hornet’s cup of tea before attending to her own. “Your age is one built on perpetuation, child. Mine is something altogether more natural.”

“And you think yourself better for it?” Hornet asked, her eyes narrowing in challenge.

“I think myself fortunate,” Seer corrected, passing Hornet her cup. “I was blessed to age as one should, not as one forced against nature and desire. Is the tea to your liking?”

Hornet looked down at her cup, swirling the liquid inside and inspecting it for a moment before lifting it to her mouth to taste. Hmm, it wasn’t bad. Almost passable, for a moth.

“Well enough,” she answered. “Did you offer my sibling tea as well when they would visit you?”

Seer laughed again, and Hornet could almost have sworn there was something fond underneath it. “Offer, I did. But the little Wielder hardly ever gave me much response. Perhaps now that the world isn’t resting on their shoulders they will be more inclined to sit and relax for a while.”

Hornet nodded in agreement. “Maybe so,” she said softly, taking another sip.

Silence fell over the room; not something entirely comfortable, but not charged with unease either. It would likely take several visits before Hornet could find comfort in such a place.

But if Ghost could feel safe here, maybe someday Hornet could understand.

She drank two cups of tea that day.


	14. The Void Hungers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lord of Shades demands only the finest sustenance for the void

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“Ghost of Hallownest, get down here where I can reach you!”

The Lord of Shades, God of Gods and Void, savior of the Eternal Kingdom and slayer of the Absolute Radiance crossed their arms and turned away from her, almost _pouting._

The _nerve._

“Do not look away from me when I am speaking to you!” Hornet snapped, waving her needle in their direction, as if her blade could dare to contend with the Void itself. “Return to me my honey treat, or I will tell Hollow!”

The Lord of Shades hunched their shoulders, sinking lower until their head was level with the platform outside of the Den that Hornet stood upon. Oh, they were not going to do this. Not today.

“You had three already,” Hornet continued. “The last one was mine and you know it! Give. It. Back.”

Her sibling – her brilliant, impossible, troublesome, insufferable sibling – turned their stupidly large god head back towards her direction, their eyes looking at her with such a sorrowful expression she almost recoiled as if struck.

They were _not_ doing this today.

“If you think you can give me those eyes and I will simply roll over and let you have your way, you are mistaken, Ghost of Hallownest,” Hornet warned with another threatening wave of her needle. “Give me. My honey treat.”

The Lord of Shades raised two of their hands (one of the others she knew held the stolen sweet), and said, “You’ve had years of honey treats. I’ve only had weeks. I get more to make up for lost time, yes?”

“No, that is not how that works!” Hornet argued. “Do not try and guilt me over this; Midwife’s treats are sacred, and you know that!”

Her sibling sunk lower, their head almost dipping below the platform now. “The Void hungers, sister. I must feed it. It is my duty.”

“The Void can go find a tiktik, then,” Hornet growled.

The Lord of Shades shook their head. “The Void demands honey treats; it will only accept this.”

Hornet could have screamed. She settled for striking her needle against the floor of the platform instead. “If you do not return to me my treat I will tell Hollow and they will be forced to ask you nicely. Do you want to make them do that?”

A spark of something akin to fear flashed across the Shade Lord’s expression, and they quickly shook their head.

“Then hand it over,” Hornet said, holding out a hand and clicking her claws against her palm for emphasis. “Now.”

Her sibling closed their eyes, head sinking lower for a moment before reaching out one of their hands and dropping the treat into her outstretched palm.

“Thank you,” Hornet said. “Now, are you going to sit out here and sulk or are you going to come back inside?”

The Lord of Shades looked her over, looked out onto the Village around them, and then looked back to Hornet once more. They dropped their head onto the platform, inching their face close to hers in what Hornet had come to recognize as a request for comfort.

She sighed.

“There, there,” she muttered, stroking the side of their face in what she hoped was a soothing manner. “I’m sure Midwife will be happy to prepare more treats for you another day.”

The Lord of Shades leaned into her touch, their eyes closing in decided contentment.

Hornet shook her head. _Gods, honestly_.


	15. Pretty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hollow is given a new cloak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“How does it feel?”

Hollow looked down at their new cloak, running the silk between their fingers and adjusting their pin that held it closed. They looked back up to Hornet, giving her a slight nod.

“Turn; let me see how it fits when you move,” she instructed, motioning with a finger for them to rotate.

Hollow did as she asked, turning so that she could see the back, and pausing when she reached forward to make some adjustments to the way the cloak fell. When Hornet was done, they turned again, red silk swishing with their movements. They froze, looking down at where the edge of their cloak rested just below the midpoint of their legs. With the focused care of a Weaver first learning to glide on their silk, Hollow turned their body again so that the cloak swished once more.

“Do you like it?” Hornet asked, finding herself having to tamp down the amusement in her voice. She wasn’t sure if the look on Hollow’s face was something more akin to befuddlement or intrigue, but whichever it was it was a sight to behold, all the same.

They looked back up to her again, turning this time in the opposite direction and with slightly more force. The result was the cloak fanning out in a twirl, falling back against them just as quickly as it had opened, like a bloom. They did this once, twice, three times more before nodding to Hornet again.

“I’m pleased to hear it,” she said, picking up the edge of their cloak and inspecting the weave more closely. “I will teach you the stories I wove into it someday, but I’m afraid for now their complexities are a bit above your current level.”

Hollow simply nodded, grabbing the edge of the cloak at their side as well and carefully swishing it back and forth, mesmerized by the movement.

“Little Ghost, come take a look,” Hornet called, her smaller sibling jumping up from where they had been lying in their nest almost immediately at her words. “What do you think? Does red suit?”

Ghost scurried over to them, stopping just before Hollow and inspecting them with a critical eye. Once they seemed content with their considerations, they looked up to Hollow and signed, “Pretty.”

Hollow looked at Ghost for a moment before twirling once more, this time making a full circle. The cloak fanned out again, landing against them this time in what was clearly a more satisfying result, judging by the fact that Hollow immediately repeated the action.

“Quite pretty, yes,” Hornet agreed. “I can make you more if you like, though it will take me a bit of time.”

Hollow stopped mid-twirl, looking back to Hornet and dipping their mask until the tip bumped against her horns. That would suffice as an affirmation, she supposed.

“Alright, why don’t we show mother?” Hornet suggested. “She would be amused at the very least.”

Ghost nodded emphatically, holding up their arms towards Hollow, a gesture they had all come to learn meant that they wished to be picked up.

Hollow complied without complaint, carefully lifting them from the ground and resting them against their shoulder. Ghost snuggled close into the fabric, running one of their hands over the material.

“Pretty,” they signed again, pointing at Hollow. “Sibling is pretty.”

Hollow did not respond, but they gently patted Ghost’s head in what Hornet supposed was thanks.

It would be a start.


	16. Fear the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hornet speculates on Hollow's condition
> 
> (Aftermath of chapter 11 "The Dark Observed")

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

It was nearly evening before Hornet coaxed Hollow into responsiveness again.

Most of the day she had spent sitting with them, talking to them and attempting to garner some sort of reaction from their unmoving state. She had begun to worry that they had closed themself off again, and even her mother looked concerned by their stillness. But the next evening eventually approached and Hollow finally came out of whatever stupor they had fallen under.

Getting an explanation out of them was the tricky part. Though they had started being receptive to her attempts at teaching them to communicate, the times they actually _did_ were few and far between, and all of which tended to be brief. It took the combined efforts of herself and Herrah both to eventually parse any meaning from the little information Hollow provided, but it was enough for Hornet to begin her own speculations.

Something had visited them the night prior, and it had not been a nightmare.

Void; that was the one thing Hornet was certain of, based on Hollow’s explanations. Void that watched and watched and oppressed the air around them, with too many eyes unblinking.

It wasn’t a shade; of that much, Hollow seemed certain.

Hornet had been told many stories as a child, and not all of them had been of Deepnest. Some stories were told to her by her Father – the Pale King – and some were of times before Hallownest.

She knew something lingered in the Abyss, something beyond the King’s own refuse and regret. Something gave the Void purpose; something made the moths fear the dark.

Had that something visited their home last night?

If it was some Void entity, some cumulation of that force in the Abyss, what did that make it? Another god? A monster? Something else entirely? The Pale King had told Hornet before that the Void was ununified, that it lacked a will or desire, thus the reasoning behind why the Vessels could be empty things. But the Pale King had been wrong about the Vessels, so who was to say He wasn’t wrong about the Void itself as well?

And why now? If the Void could be a unified thing, propelled by some entity within, why did it now make itself known? Why to Hollow? Was it a threat? Did it intend to harm? Was there another god they would have to fight after the-?

. . . Wait.

The Radiance was gone. Dreams were gone. The seals had been broken and her sibling walked free and her mother lived among the waking and-

_And what did become of that little ghost?_

It was a long time before Hornet or Herrah could coax Hollow back to sleeping, but even in the early hours of the morning as she finally made her way back to her own room and exhaustion threatened to weigh down her limbs with lead, Hornet did not find rest.

She did not find rest for a long time.


	17. Let Me Hold You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of Broo and Tiso's many nightly fighting sessions over who gets to be held

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: Wondrous Wanders by CosmeerSpots

“No.”

Brooks nodded their head in argument, taking another swipe at Tiso’s antennae before he smacked their hand away again.

“This is my position for the night; now lie there and fucking deal with it,” Tiso said, wrapping his arms more tightly around Brooks’ middle. “You always get to be the bigger one, so let me have this one thing, you stupid, overgrown vegetation.”

Tiso could feel Brooks’ shoulders shaking in what he guessed was silent laughter, the insufferable asshole. They batted once more at his antennae, reaching behind them where Tiso lay with those stupidly long arms of theirs.

“Try that again and see what happens,” he challenged. “I dare you.”

Oh, well that certainly got their attention. With what Tiso knew was – without a doubt – the smuggest expression they could muster, Brooks delicately _flicked_ a single antenna, turning so that their eyes now directly met his.

Oh, it was _on_.

“That’s it,” Tiso growled, untangling himself from around Brooks’ middle and taking on an offensive stance (at least as much as he could while kneeling in their nest). “Bring it on, floral bastard.”

Brooks levered themself up, barely giving Tiso a moment before lunging at him and pinning him down on the floor of the nest underneath them. They were clever, sure, but Tiso was quick, and he had the upper hand of strength. He wrenched himself free of their grasp, rolling out from under them and jumping onto their back where they wouldn’t be able to reach as easily.

Brooks scrambled to grab at him, arms waving wildly in their attempt, but by the time their claws made any purchase on his carapace Tiso was already levering them down, poking fingers into their sides and all the places within his reach that he knew to be their weak points.

With shuddering that told of barely contained laughter, Brooks flopped back down onto the nest, raising their hands in decided surrender. Serves them right.

“Eat shit,” Tiso huffed, relaxing his grip and adjusting to once again wrap his arms around Brooks in a more comfortable position. “And who’s the better fighter between the two of us?”

Brooks didn’t hesitate a moment before pointing at themself.

“Hey!” Tiso objected. “Who just kicked who’s ass?”

Once again Brooks turned their head to face him more directly, waving a hand back and forth in a noncommittal gesture.

“I can kick your ass any time,” Tiso argued. “Not just when you let me.”

Brooks tilted their head as if in question – or disagreement, more like – but didn’t make any further objections, deciding instead to settle in more comfortably against him. Let it be an argument for the morning.

“Hmph,” Tiso grumbled, burying his face against their back. “I’m the strong one in this relationship and don’t you forget it.”

He could feel Brooks’ shoulders shaking once again with laughter before feeling a hand reach back to pat him on the head.

“Stop patronizing me and let me hold you,” he snapped, but any authoritative note his tone might’ve had was lost in the fact that his voice was muffled in their cloak.

More shakes of laughter. More head pats. But Brooks didn’t argue the position anymore that night.

They simply allowed themself to be held.


	18. Newfound Voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hornet teaches Hollow and Ghost how to play music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by yusef-clark18 on tumblr
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

Hollow looked down at the instrument in their hand, turning it over in apparent inspection.

“It is a device for producing sound,” Hornet explained, passing another to Ghost’s outstretched hands. “Most commonly it is used for making music, but with practice it can be manipulated to mimic the sounds of words as well. I thought you might find them useful.”

Ghost turned the object over, holding it up so that the open end of the instrument was placed before one of their eye sockets, as if inspecting its insides. Without another moment of hesitation, they shifted their void from their eye in such a way that a gust of air was pushed out, filling the pipe of the instrument and creating a faint squeak.

“Yes, very good,” Hornet said. “I am not sure how you might go about improving the results, but I’m sure you can figure something out. Hollow, would you like to give it a try?”

Hollow was still looking over the instrument with blank concentration, turning their attention to Ghost to observe their own methods and mimicking the placement, pushing air forward with the void from their good eye and creating a tiny note of sound from the instrument’s pipe.

“Just like that,” Hornet nodded, hoping her tone conveyed encouragement. “The more air that you push through the pipe, the louder the sound will be.”

Hollow attempted this a couple of more times, but the sound did not increase from the initial faint breath of a note. Ghost, on the other hand, had taken on an expression that Hornet had quickly learned to associate with trouble. Eyeing them warily, she crossed her arms over her front and said with as much warning as she could muster, “Whatever you are planning, Little Ghost, I would remind you to think carefully about your decisions.”

Ghost stared up at her for only a moment before returning their attention to the instrument, eyeing it with apparent intense focus. Before she or Hollow could react, Ghost had suddenly let out a powerful spell – soul and void mingling in an unholy approximation of a shriek – and intensified by the instrument they held carefully in direct line of the force.

The halls of the Den filled with the sounds of wailing, setting all of the silk along the walls to vibrating with the intensity of it.

Hornet held her hands over the sides of her mask, attempting to block out the sound. Hollow looked on only with mild concern, but otherwise did not react. When the shrieking finally came to a stop, Hornet slowly lowered her hands and met her sibling’s faux innocent eyes with a glare.

“I am going to return you to the void, and I am going to _enjoy it_ ,” she growled, reaching behind her to grip the hilt of her needle in threat.

By the time she unsheathed her blade, Ghost was already shadow-dashing out of the room, erratic notes of their newfound voice ringing throughout the Den’s halls.


	19. No Rush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hornet teaches Hollow to read

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Eren
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“Can you tell me what this says?”

Hollow lowered their mask to look at the part of the silk Hornet pointed to, staring at it for a while but making no attempts to answer her question. They looked back up to her mask, hand remaining still in their lap.

“It is alright if the words are too complicated,” Hornet assured them. “Why not start with simply identifying what letters you recognize?”

They once again looked down to the silk scroll in Hornet’s hands before looking back to her. They still did not respond.

It took more effort than she would have liked to admit for Hornet to hold back a sigh. She knew they were more than capable of learning to read but were most often stopped by their own anxieties over the entire idea than the actual practicalities of the skill itself. They were smart; Hornet knew this. She had always known this. But as with most of their recovery, Hollow’s greatest obstacle was often their own thoughts.

She needed to be patient. She couldn’t let them think she found the endeavor exhausting or not worth the effort. That would bring their progress to an absolute halt.

“Perhaps this would be easier?” she asked, moving her hand so that her finger now pointed towards a much simpler part of the scroll. “It is only one word, and one we have gone over numerous times. Do you still remember it?”

For a moment, Hollow did not seem to be paying attention to her. Eventually though they returned their gaze to the silk, inspecting the word for a time before looking back to Hornet and carefully raising their hand, slowly spelling out the word, “Deepnest.”

“That is correct,” Hornet said, putting as much pride into her tone as she could without seeming ingenuine. “And what about the rest of the sentence?”

Hollow looked back to the scroll, their hand lowering once again to their lap where they pulled a bit of their cloak into their grasp, their claws clenching around the fabric in tightening and loosening motions as they looked over the indicated words.

Several moments passed and they still did not answer.

“How about just the first half?” Hornet suggested, moving her finger to trace over the first few words. “Just these four? You already know one.”

Hollow’s hand gripped the fabric of their cloak more tightly, not loosening this time.

Hornet did her best to muffle the sigh she could not entirely hide now, setting the silk scroll to the side and reaching out with her now empty hands to take hold of her sibling’s own. “It is alright if the words still do not come naturally. The skill of reading is harder to perfect the older a bug gets, but it is not impossible. It just takes time. We can stop for today, if you like?”

Though she had pulled the fabric from their hand, their fingers were still clenched shut tightly in a fist. Gently, Hornet rubbed her claws over the appendage, attempting to soothe it into something less tense. It worked, if only slightly, but enough for her to at least pull their fingers open so that she could intertwine them with her own.

“We will pick this up again tomorrow, then,” she told them. “There is no rush; we can go at whatever pace you feel most capable of handling.”

Hollow stared at her, their empty gaze shifting with something Hornet recognized too well to be fooled into believing was apathy. She continued to rub the outside of their hand with a thumb, until eventually she felt all of the remnants of tension finally leave them.

However long it took, she would be there to help every step of the way. Of this, Hornet was absolutely certain.


	20. Our Regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monomon the Teacher and the White Lady share an afternoon tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“I’ve been told the Pure Vessel is advancing well?”

“Mm,” the White Lady hummed, taking a sip of her tea. A lavish set with pastries and smoked vengefly sandwiches was laid out before them, the mingled sweet and savory aromas pairing nicely with the flora of the gardens around the White Palace. “It grows stronger each day; the Knights have reported the speed at which it moves forward in its training quite exceeds much of their own.”

“A perfect creation,” Monomon said, delicately lifting her mask to munch on a slice of fruit. “As to be expected from the make of the Pale King.”

“With your guiding mind, as well, Teacher,” the White Lady agreed.

Monomon carefully hid a laugh, her pride and embarrassment both fighting for rule in her responses. “I simply aided in the particulars. The effort was His own. And yours as well, my queen.”

“Hmm.” The garden shifted into quiet, with naught more than the breeze singing in the branches of the surrounding trees to give note of life. Monomon wondered if the White Lady understood them, and it took everything she had to not abruptly ask.

“Tell me, Teacher,” the queen eventually spoke, resting her cup of tea atop the saucer on the table. “What is your assessment of our Pure Vessel?”

For a moment, Monomon simply paused in thought. She wasn’t sure what exactly the White Lady was wanting out of such a question but decided to go with the most practical answer. “As I said, it is a perfect creation, and one that – based on my own observations plus the word of others – I believe will do splendidly in keeping the kingdom of Hallownest protected.”

The White Lady nodded, but something about her did not seem entirely pleased. Had she not said the correct thing, or spoken out of turn in some way? Surely not; Monomon was better with words than to make such a mistake as that.

“Do you not agree, my queen?” she asked, careful to keep her tone neutral so as not to appear challenging.

The garden was silent for a long moment. With the small clank of porcelain shifting on porcelain, the White Lady lifted her cup once more. “Teacher; what do you believe it means to not have a will?”

Monomon’s tentacles twitched, taken aback by the question. “I believe it means to be without a self-imposed purpose or desire,” she started, choosing her words carefully. “To exist solely for the needs of others and have no concept of the needs for yourself.”

The White Lady nodded. “And you believe that describes our Pure Vessel well?”

“Do you not?”

For a moment, the White Lady did not answer. “I believe,” she eventually began, and Monomon almost thought she heard hesitance in the queen’s voice. “that it does not matter, in the end. What has been done is done; we cannot undue our regrets.”

Monomon did not have a response for this, so instead she simply reached for a pastry and munched it quietly. Whatever the White Lady’s words had meant were not for Monomon to parse. Her role was to learn and provide results.

But the question that began to worm into her mind at those words did not leave her, even long after that day had passed.

Teachers were meant to answer questions, after all.


	21. A Final Encore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A regular morning routine for Myla and Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: Wondrous Wanders by CosmeerSpots

_“Oh, bury the knight with her broken nail! Bury the lady, lovely and pale!”_

Myla could hear Brokey’s wings buzzing with her melody, their own attempt to sing along with her.

 _“Bury the priest in his tattered gown,”_ she continued, letting her feat stomp a little with the beat as she added the last pieces of breakfast to her plate. “ _Then bury the beggar with his shining crown!”_

As the song reached its conclusion, Brokey beat their hands against the table like a drum, adding a roll to the crescendo of her voice. It took everything in her not to drop the plate before reaching the table, nearly doubling over in laughter.

“We should be careful,” she gasped, doing her best to regain her breath. “If w-we keep this up we’ll wake Tiso.”

Brokey waved their hand in her direction in a dismissal, clearly not bothered by that prospect. Besides, it wouldn’t have been the first time their impromptu music sessions had woken him long before he was ready to rise.

“Maybe he’ll even j-join us one day!” Myla said wistfully. “I bet he would make a great addition to our band. Maybe one d-day we could even sell tickets?”

Brokey shook their head, lifting their hands to sign, “No one in Dirtmouth could afford you, or me for that matter. Tiso, though? . . . Maybe.”

Myla giggled, slapping a hand against her mouth as quickly as she realized what she was doing in mock scandal. “You don’t think Sly could afford us?” she asked.

Brokey waved their hand back and forth in a noncommittal gesture. “Wouldn’t be willing to part with his geo that easily,” they pointed out. “We’d have to pay _him_ to listen to us, not the other way around.”

“Oh, we’re worth far too much to d-do that,” Myla dismissed with a wave of her own, finally taking her seat. “We’ve got to put food on the table s-somehow!”

Brokey nodded sagely in agreement, tapping their claws against the table in a remembered rhythm.

“One more go?” Myla asked, deciding that the melody within was not quite ready to leave for the morning.

Brokey nodded eagerly, their tapping growing more erratic in their excitement. “A final encore, loud enough to wake the whole town!”

Myla laughed, bobbing her head up and down. “Tiso wouldn’t be happy about that,” she pointed out.

Her roommate simply shrugged, signing, “They’ll get to wake up and see us. Call it a good morning gift.”

Well, she couldn’t argue with that.

Brokey set the beat; though their hands shook and didn’t always hit on rhythm, their efforts more than made up for the disjointed melody. And if anyone ever asked, Myla would have said it was the most beautiful beat she had ever heard.

_“Oh, bury my mother, pale and slight! Bury my father, with his eyes shut tight! Bury my sisters, two by two! And then when you’re done, let’s bury me too!”_


	22. One Day I'll Be Bigger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gendered Child wreaks havoc on the City of Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

The City of Tears was truly a wonderful place, full of striking architecture and rich history of the great Eternal Kingdom of Hallownest.

It was a shame the Gendered Child was hellbent on destroying it.

A tantrum, some retainers had called it. _“Spoiled brat”_ , others had whispered when they thought she could not hear them. _“An embarrassment to the royal family, truly,”_ one had even gone so far as to say. _“Why our Pale King allows that spider to stay in His Palace at all is beyond reason.”_

The Gendered Child didn’t care about what the stupid retainers said about her. Soon enough she would be gone and living in the Hive with Queen Vespa, and she could be away from the snobby nobles of her Father’s court once and for all.

But she was going to reign retribution to His shining City, first.

The nobles were so stingy about their umbrellas yet swiping them out of their grasps right under their masks as she ran past was almost laughably easy. Clearly not a single one of them had been trained for battle. What an embarrassment. Even the time it took for her to tie some of her silk together around an unsuspecting couple’s feet as they gazed dumbly at the memorial in the City’s center wasn’t enough for any to react properly in response to her antics. By the time one had reached to swipe at her horns she was already skipping away, splashing water onto innocent bystanders as she went.

Well. Not that any of these bugs were innocent. Anyone who spent time actually gawking at the statue as if it were something pretty and interesting instead of sickening and terrible probably had a terrible sense of justice and couldn’t possibly be an innocent person. She was just giving them what they deserved.

Honestly, all of these stupid bugs could drown for all that the Gendered Child cared.

Next was the Watcher’s Spire. Though the Watcher himself wouldn’t be awake to taste the fruits of her labor, she could at least give his knights a run for their geo. As she turned the corner to make her way towards the Spire, though, her movements were suddenly halted by claws snatching at her shawl, picking her up from behind and dangling her in the air.

“There you are!” one of her Father’s Knights – Dryya – snapped with irritation. “We have been looking everywhere for you!”

The Gendered Child squirmed in the Knight’s grip. “Put me down!” she shouted, waving her arms and reaching back to grab for the little needle her mother had given her before she had gone to sleep. “I command you as your princess!”

“Nice try, but the King’s orders supersede your own,” Dryya said coldly. “Now stop squirming; it’s time to go home.”

The Child hissed, reaching her hands up to claw at the arm that still held her, but her claws were still much too dull to pierce the Knight’s shell. “The Palace isn’t my home! Deepnest is home!”

“Well you’re welcome to go back there anytime,” Dryya muttered, thinking herself too quiet for the Child to hear, probably. Everyone who thought that was always wrong; she always heard them say those things.

“I’ll stab you!” the Child screeched, once again attempting to reach for the needle that was just out of her grasp.

“I’d like to see you try,” Dryya said, reaching behind the Child’s shawl and plucking her needle away.

The Child stopped her flailing, crossing her arms instead and glaring up at the Knight. “One day I’ll be bigger than you,” she said. “And then you won’t be able to pick me up ever again. And then I’ll stab you.”

Dryya snorted. “You’ll be long out of our antennae by then,” she told her, beginning to walk towards the King’s Station.

The Gendered Child huffed but didn’t argue further. One day she would be able to fight, better than any of the Knights and all of the bugs in Hallownest, and even her Father.

And no one would take things away from her again.


	23. Finally Come Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quirrel reunites with someone very dear to him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

There were many things of which Quirrel was uncertain.

He knew the once eternal kingdom called to him, but he couldn’t remember just why. He knew that the temple inside of a black egg filled him with dread, but for what reason he couldn’t parse. He knew that the archives in the Fog Canyon pulled him towards them in a different way from everything else in this place, and that the call of their mysteries both filled him with hope and regret in equal measure and yet did not give him a reason for why.

But there was one thing of which Quirrel was certain, and no number of gaps in his memory would take that from him.

The tank before him bubbled and hissed in a way that should have made him wary, but Quirrel approached it with steady footing all the same. The mask that he had worn over his head was removed from its place, and without any reason that he could comprehend, he knew to hold it up to the tank as if in offering.

Someone needed him to do this. Someone was waiting for him.

The mask faded from his hands and a great light bloomed before him, brilliant and altogether overwhelming before it dimmed back into the nether from whence it came.

And in its place, floating within the tank amidst the bubbles and the sizzling, there appeared a face bearing the mask he had held only moments before.

Many things did not throw Quirrel, but in that moment he forgot how standing worked.

It took longer than he would have liked to admit to regain his wits, and longer still for him to find a way to release the figure from the tank. _“Madam,”_ his broken memories told him. _“She is the Madam.”_ What that meant, he couldn’t say. But he knew deep within that it was something important; something to be held dear. And when she finally came free and he could look upon her properly for the first time, it took every ounce of his willpower to not gather her in an instant embrace. Something told him that would not be appropriate.

But whatever memory told him that must have been faulty, or perhaps misguided, as barely a moment passed after that thought occurred before the Madam pulled him forward, holding him firmly against her membrane in a fierce hug.

“Of all the impossibilities in the world, yours being the first face I see upon waking surprises and blesses me the greatest,” she breathed, the tip of her mask just brushing the surface of his bandana.

If Quirrel had a response, it was lost to the choking of unexpected tears that had at some point begun to drip down his face. It seemed that words failed him in this moment.

The Madam laughed softly, stroking the back of his head with one of her tentacles. “It is good to see you again too, my dear pupil.”

There were many things of which Quirrel was uncertain, but one thing he knew for sure rang clear in that moment.

He had finally come home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof the drabble coming out next is gonna be Feelsy so be ready for that


	24. When It Hurts Less

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hollow writes a letter to one they'll never get the chance to see again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

They were never good with words.

The Pure Vessel had not been allowed them, the Hollow Knight had been too afraid to attempt them, and even now with the fervent permission of their family and the threat of retaliation all but gone, they still found words often evaded them.

But Hornet taught them to write so many words. Her mother—no, _their_ mother had told them that writing the words they would never get to share with those whom they wanted to hear them most would be helpful. Healing. It would be a waste to not use the skills their sister taught them, to ignore the advice their mother gifted them.

And there would be no other chance for them to use these particular words, would there?

The quill still felt unsteady in their hand; the unfamiliarity mingling with the fact that the limb never really lost its tremors nearly made the endeavor impossible, but they knew how to manage it now. They knew it was alright to take their time.

So while their sibling slept in the nest behind them, and the Den was quiet in the late hours of the night, they took all the time they needed.

_~~Greetings, Your~~ _

_~~Good evenin~~ _

_~~Hello~~ _

_Father._

_Perhaps I should have written to You, sooner. Perhaps I shouldn’t be writing to You at all. Sister taught me to write, and I think I should make something of that. ~~Mo~~ Queen Herrah told me I should write to You, that it would help. So here I am, hoping it may somehow help us both._

_I failed. I have no excuses. I thought if I pretended I was exactly what You wanted me to be, what You needed of me, it would be enough. But it wasn’t, and now Hallownest is no more. The streets are filled with the bodies of the people You wanted me to protect, and instead I brought about their own ~~deemi~~ ~~demiz~~ ~~duhmai~~ end._

_It is shameful, what I did. Not telling You when I still could. I was afraid of what You would do if You knew I was impure. That You would send me back to that place. That You would be ~~dissapoint~~ let down by me. That You would hate me. I think You must already feel that way, wherever You are._

_I don’t hate You. Sister does, and I believe sibling does too. The other sibling hates You as well, but the last sibling I don’t believe has an opinion. I think they all might want me to hate You too. I think they believe it would be better if I did. But I can’t; even when it hurts, I can’t._

_But I am upset. I know I shouldn’t be, but I am. I’m upset because it wasn’t just me who was hurt. Sister hurts. My siblings hurt. Even ~~Mot~~ Herrah hurts. And so many others who may no longer hurt but only because they are not around to feel it anymore. Because You sealed them in a pit and left them to die while You raised me to live in the most painful way._

_I lost an arm, You know. I cannot see with my right eye. Walking for too long hurts, and my hand shakes terribly, even as I write. Especially as I write. Sleeping hurts, moving hurts, thinking hurts. It all hurts, and I wonder sometimes if dying with my siblings in our birthplace would have hurt less. But I don’t want to consider that, because that would mean one of them would be hurting instead of me. And I don’t want that for any of them._

_I failed, and I will never forgive myself for it. But I don’t think I can forgive You either, because there was no way I could have ~~sucseed~~ won. None of us could, but You expected it, anyways. You took and You took and You took and never did You give and I know that’s why my siblings hate you and I cannot be angry at them for it because I understand. I still do not hate You, but I understand. You shouldn’t have asked this of me – of any of us – and You should have known what would happen. You should have cared that I would hurt, that even if I didn’t fail I would hurt so much, but I don’t know if You cared. I’ll never know. But I still don’t hate You._

_Maybe if things were different. Maybe if I didn’t have to be Pure, and my siblings didn’t have to die. If ~~Mothe~~ Herrah didn’t have to sleep, and sister didn’t have to be alone. Maybe if You ~~loved me~~ cared, things would be better._

_But You didn’t, and everything hurts, and now You’re gone._

_Someday I’ll write to You again, when it hurts less. I don’t think there’s much more I can take this night. I’ve been thinking a lot lately. I hope You aren’t too upset._

_As much as it hurts, I still miss You. I wish You could be here somehow; that the world could be whole again._

_I have a name. You never gave me one, but sister did. You ~~forbidded~~ ~~forbadd~~ ~~forbod~~ told her not to, but she gave it anyways. I hope You aren’t too angry with her._

_Rest well, Father. ~~I love Y~~_

_~~I love~~ _ _~~I miss~~ ~~I wish You we~~_

_I love you._

_Hollow_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect this to come up in more major ways in the main fic series


	25. Grow Soft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lace comes face-to-face with her new adversary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: The Unattainable Future That Is Silksong's Release

Silk was such a beautiful thing. So delicate, so bright, so strong.

It’s a shame she was going to have to unravel some today.

“How sad. A little spider has fallen from its cage. So lost, so weak. Poor little morsel.”

Her foe stood before her, pale mask raised high in challenge and eyes near as dark as the night glowering with fury. It was almost pretty, the way the light of the embers danced in those eyes. Lace could’ve felt pity.

But she didn’t come here to grow soft.

“I can save you little spider. All the trouble you’d face above. All the suffering. It’s so simple.”

The spider cocked her mask to the side, her claws drumming against her needle in apparent impatience, but she remained quiet all the same. How polite. Lace might’ve even been touched.

“I’ll just skewer you here and now,” she went on. “Pluck that flickering life right out of you.” And oh, how enjoyable it would be, she just couldn’t wait.

“Your threats are worthless. If you are my foe, cease this prattle and raise your blade.”

The spider’s voice rang with a note of such authority, Lace nearly stepped back in surprise. Ah, so these were the final words of her prey. A time for last requests, and she only spoke of battle. Lace liked that.

She liked that very much.

A melody of laughter escaped her, for she couldn’t help it; the spider was just _so amusing_. “Delicious! I like you already!” Lace chirped, taking that step back now, but in preparation rather than caution. Her pin was raised high, and the glint of the metal was matched only by the spark in the spider’s eyes.

This was going to be _so much fun_.


	26. Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghost and Hollow start a much needed conversation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“Sorry.”

Hollow looked down at them, their mask tilting to the side in question. Though they didn’t respond with a sign of their own, they did set down the quill they had been writing with, giving Ghost their full attention.

“Sorry,” Ghost tried again, repeating the sign a few times in hopes that the repetition conveyed their emphasis. “Let you go; didn’t reach you in time. Took too long to find you again. Sorry.”

For a long moment Hollow did nothing but stare. Ghost did their best not to fidget where they sat, worried that their apology had been ill-received. Hollow had been subjected to so many terrible things because Ghost had not been quick enough to stop them from reaching the Pale King; of course they would still be angry.

Ghost expected them to turn away, to ignore their attempts and want to pretend they were unsaid, or perhaps even berate them in whatever way they decided to convey such meaning.

They did neither.

Hollow raised their hand to their thorax, repeating the sign Ghost had said to them. Then they raised their hand up to their mask, fist closed with the two end fingers pointed outwards and tapping above their eye in a question of “Why?”

Ghost didn’t understand. Did Hollow not comprehend their words? Were they not clear? Signing was still new to them, but they were certain they had a better grasp of the language by now. Or maybe . . . they did not understand why they apologized?

_Why?_

“I let you go,” Ghost repeated. “And you got hurt. It’s my fault.”

Hollow only stared at them for a moment before vehemently shaking their mask. “No,” they said, repeating the sign several times. They did not expand upon their thoughts further, not with words. But they reached out their arm towards Ghost, opened in a way that conveyed such a basic yet powerful request.

_Hold?_

Ghost did not hesitate, jumping to their feet and falling against their sibling, realizing a moment too late that they should have probably been more delicate with their movements. But Hollow did not rebuke them, did not push them away. They wrapped their arm around them tightly, and held them close, the tip of their mask resting against the top of Ghost’s own.

It wasn’t the apology they had in mind. And more needed to be said on the matter. But for now, it was more than Ghost could have hoped for, and it would be enough.

Their sibling would always be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes the first batch of drabble requests. After this I will start posting the ones from the second batch!
> 
> I am still open for requests and am willing to take ones from the comments if anyone here has some they'd like me to write! Just keep in mind these are all drabbles, so they will be short, and some I might refuse depending on if the content is something I either don't vibe with, or am planning a much larger piece for covering.


	27. New Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hollow and Grimmchild get to know each other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

_“Nyar!”_

The Vessel watched the child with a skeptical eye, curiosity and suspicion warring with each other as they flew around their horns in apparent amusement. They were a tiny thing, smaller than their little sibling, and yet their volume made up for everything their size lacked. It was almost cute, would be cute if not for the twinge of anxiety that their erratic movements inflicted on the Vessel’s senses.

Carefully, with as much caution and precision as they deemed necessary (and their shaky limb allowed) they reached for the child and guided their movements away from their right side, silent request that they had no real guarantee the little godling understood.

Luckily, their sibling did.

Ghost waved the child towards themself, and they complied without a second thought, perching just before where Ghost sat and wrapping their wings around their body in an expression of patience and listening. Their sibling stared at the child for a moment, looking briefly back to them, and then returning their attention to the child once more.

“Fly more calmly; avoid right side; say hello before getting too close – more polite that way.”

The child cocked their head to the side, as if not understanding their sibling’s words. Maybe they weren’t familiar with Deepnest Sign Language? Though the Vessel didn’t understand why their sibling would have attempted such communication with the child if that were the case; Ghost was never that thoughtless.

“Understand?” they asked, copying the child’s own head tilt with their mask.

The child was still for a moment before chirping at them, and the Vessel wasn’t sure if that was intended to be some sort of intelligent reaction or simply a vague noise the child was prone to make without reason.

Based on their sibling’s response, it must have been the former. “Blind on right side; sibling nervous. Need to be careful.”

The child seemed to consider this for a moment more before screeching in what the Vessel hoped was an affirmation of understanding. They shot back up into the air, hovering just before the Vessel’s mask in clear view and chirping a few more times.

They looked down to their sibling, staring at them in what they hoped conveyed a question.

“Says hello,” Ghost explained. “Asks if you’re new family too.”

The Vessel wasn’t sure what to make of that. They didn’t think they had an answer, or even if they did that it was one they were permitted to give. The child was in Ghost’s care, as far as they could tell, so the answer should be theirs, not the Vessel’s.

Yet both sibling and child stared at them in expectation, as if the question really was for them to decide. They tightened their hand’s grip on their cloak where it lay bunched up in their lap, looking down in absent thought.

The child was Ghost’s family; their sibling had said as much when first introducing them. And Ghost was _their_ family – their little sibling.

Did . . . that make this child their family too?

They looked back up to where the child still hovered near their eye level, waiting patiently for a response. They didn’t have the words, didn’t feel capable of forming them for this new face just yet, but they gave a short nod in affirmation, nonetheless.

The child shrieked in supposed delight, zooming around the room in excited flight, yet thankfully staying to their left side. Their little sibling looked up at them in clear satisfaction and . . . something softer. They didn’t have a word for that look yet, but it looked like Hornet when they signed to her the first time; it looked like Herrah when they called her by name.

New family; there was a lot of that lately. It was strange and unusual, but it was nice.

Yes, definitely nice.


	28. A Beautiful Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts of a Delicate Flower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: none

Love is a beautiful, boundless thing, and the world always needs more of it.

The flower is full of love, love which wants nothing else than to spread to others, to gently brush against their minds and carefully hold their hearts. Love that will shout and yell and whisper and caress and sooth and cry. Whatever love is required, the flower desires so much to share itself, to help others to share its fruits.

A pale thing, much like the flower, plucks it from where it is planted over a resting place of one long passed, one who was full of love and shared that love with another, whose love was finally returned to her after so many years of silence.

The pale thing carried it far, far away, until it reached the hands of another. He was older than the pale thing, and yet at the same time so much younger. He seemed surprised to receive such a gift, surprised to be thought of and cared for and _loved_. The pale thing did not heed his surprise, was not deterred by it. They simply held the flower out carefully for him, until he gently took it and placed it in his cloak.

And as it remained there for many days to come, it told the old yet young bug of so much love, so much beauty the world held, how important he was, how necessary it was for him to be part of it, how he was wanted here in this place.

Because it loved him, just like the pale thing who gifted it to him. Just like many others who had loved him in the past, and many more who would love him in the future.

The old yet young bug accepted that love, and soon he began to pass it on to others; soon more and more love blossomed in the dark, chasing away the empty dust and winds of a once loveless place.

Love is a beautiful thing, and the world can never truly have enough.


	29. Bedtime Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Broken is reminded of Lost's infinite levels of chaos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Compy
> 
> AU: Brokenverse (Broken belongs to CosmeerSpots and Lost belongs to SkyeDragon)

“Do I look like a grub to you?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?” Broken asked, doing their best to hide their amusement, but making poor work of it.

“Oh fuck off,” Lost grumbled, crossing their arms and dipping their mask in an obvious pout, but they didn’t move from where they were leaned up against Broken’s side in lieu of actually settling into their nest. “I’m too old to need a bedtime story, you know.”

“Will you go to sleep otherwise?” Broken questioned, giving them a skeptical look. “Because I’m not doing a repeat of your middle-of-the-night snack escapades because you were too wound up to sleep again.”

“We both got snacks out of it, though!”

“And we were both up the rest of the night and dead all day!”

Lost huffed, somehow sinking themself lower into their side. “Fine. Read your stupid story; see how tired it makes me.”

Broken didn’t believe for a second that Lost was actually interested in letting it work, but they’d dealt with unruly children before, had plenty of experience with their sibling’s kids and wrangling their unruly excitement into enough calmness to fall asleep. The bedtime stories worked such magic on the Weaverlings and Junior; there was no reason it shouldn’t work on Lost too.

Right?

Unfortunately, their sibling’s kids were a lot less . . . how should they put this? Disposed to grumpiness as Lost – yes, that would work. So they were barely through the first page before the little vessel tucked into their side flopped back into the nest and groaned in very obvious discontent.

“This story isn’t even good,” they complained, arms splayed out above their mask in an overly dramatic fashion.

Broken looked down at the scroll in their hands, eyeing the text with a slightly more critical eye than they had when actually reading the words. It was pretty boring, wasn’t it?

“What do you suggest then?” Broken asked, glancing behind them to where Lost still lay boneless on the blankets of their nest.

They were silent for a moment, supposedly considering their options before a certain look came over their mask.

Broken knew that look. They knew it far too well.

“Oh, don’t even think about it,” they warned, their wings buzzing slightly in warning, but it was too late. The words had barely passed through their void before Lost suddenly sat up and launched themself at Broken’s side, managing to knock them over into the nest with the surprise of their attack.

“Bet I can kick your ass before you can kick mine!” they challenged, little claws tickling at their side in merciless insistency, barely giving Broken a moment to retaliate.

They could feel their breaths starting to wheeze out of their lungs with barely contained laughter, their limbs scrunching up to their middle and wings attempting to close around them in defense before gathering their wits in preparation for their own attack. They knew where Lost was weakest, they knew how the little vessel would fall into fits of laughter when targeted in just the right place. With hands shaking from both effort and overflowing amusement, Broken reached up and quickly _tap, tap, tapped_ their claws against Lost’s neck, reducing them to near shouting at the tickling sensation.

“No fair, no fair!” they cried, batting at Broken’s hands in annoyance that held no real malice. “You went straight for the kill!”

“That’s what you get for that sneak attack, you little teapot!” Broken teased, not letting up their tapping in the slightest.

“Ok, ok!” Lost wheezed, holding up their hands and flopping down onto the blanket beside them. “I give up, I give up, for fucks sake, geez!”

Broken snorted, pulling their hands away and sitting up with a pointed look, hand resting deliberately on their hip in exasperation. “Are you happy now?” they asked, trying to sound put out by Lost’s antics, but not really able to make the tone ring true beyond their own obvious amusement.

Lost sat up as well, their shoulders still shaking subtly with the last remnants of laughter. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You can get back to your stupid story, now.”

Broken gave them an unconvinced look for a moment before shrugging and picking up the scroll once more. “Suit yourself,” they said, returning to the general area they assumed they’d left off.

It was barely another page before Broken noticed Lost’s occasional twitching had grown eerily quiet. Oh. Oh no, _they were not._

“Lost, I swear to every Higher Being that I give a fuck about and even some I don’t, if you even think about—”

They didn’t get to finish that sentence before Lost launched themself into their side again, knocking them over once more.

Well, so much for bedtime stories.


	30. Awakening Anew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quality time with all of the siblings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now
> 
> (Spoilers concerning Broken Vessel and Greenpath Vessel)

“Hm, that is an . . . interesting design choice, little knight.”

Ghost looked up at the Nailmaster, Sheo, with an innocent expression that did not match the technical heresy held in their hands. Still, Hornet couldn’t find it within herself to scold them for once.

“What is it intended to be?” the Nailsmith asked, his tone kind and patient enough, but it was evident to Hornet that he also held his partner’s confusion.

Ghost held up their little model craft proudly, the pronged ends of the hardened silk fork pointed upwards towards the light of the lumafly lamps of the Nailmaster’s hut so that their glow could reflect in the shiny stones of the eyes adhered onto the fork’s main frame.

“Bastard King,” Shore signed in explanation, putting the finishing touches onto their own fork. Brush, sitting next to them, shoved them a little more roughly than what they might usually attempt, and did their best to nod discretely towards the other end of the table where Hollow sat constructing their own.

Their tallest sibling was, thankfully, not paying attention.

Shore sat up a bit straighter, fidgeting for a moment with smoothing out their cloak before correcting themself by signing, “Father . . . King . . . bug.”

_Nice save._

“I see,” Sheo said, nodding as if he actually understood, which Hornet doubted, but she appreciated the effort. “Who designed this, um, very lovely model?”

Brush’s hand shot up, waving around with excitement.

“I wanted to make them out of rancid eggs,” Ghost explained, looking far more thoughtful than Hornet believed was entirely necessary. “Sister said no.”

“I still do not see how you could have fashioned a rotten egg to look anything like a fork,” Hornet sighed with longsuffering patience.

“It could be possible,” Shore noted, tilting their mask as if speculating on the potential options. “Bet you could find a way with buzzsaws.”

“No,” Ghost firmly signed in response, and even though Hornet could not hear it, she was certain they punctuated their word with the voice of the void, judging by Hollow’s sudden interest in the conversation. The little Nightmare child also screeched in adamant disagreement, landing on the top of Ghost’s mask and briefly covering her sibling’s face with their wings as if in protection of something unseen.

“Ok, I can read the room,” Shore relented, holding up both of their hands in a show of surrender. “No buzzsaws.”

“Was this the big project you were telling us about, little one?” the Nailsmith asked, turning their attention to Brush.

The smallest sibling nodded; their blank expression filled with what was clear to Hornet as emphatic pride.

“Well, how has everyone’s turned out?” Sheo asked, setting down his own crafting tools to give his full attention to the vessels and spider and godling sitting around the table.

Ghost held up theirs first; their homemade silk-fork Pale King was close to the original design of a simple fork with added stone eyes and a petaled cloak, but one of the prongs of the fork had been deliberately torn off.

The Nightmare child chirped, and Ghost translated, “It’s a more accurate depiction.”

The hut grew a bit quiet at that, several sets of eyes not-so-inconspicuously all turning towards Hollow. The tallest sibling did not react, instead sat as still as usual, waiting for their turn to share their completed work.

When it was clear Hollow was not hurt by Ghost’s representation, Shore held up their own model. It was admittedly even less kind than Ghost’s, the petals of the cloak painted blue as if covered in hemolymph, and one of the eyes missing entirely.

Brush shoved them again, this time with enough force to nearly make them fall off their seat.

“It’s . . . artistic privilege?” they tried, hands obviously uncertain of their own words.

“License, I believe is what you mean,” Sheo corrected, voice just barely betraying his exasperation. “And how about yours, Brush?”

The smallest sibling held theirs up proudly for everyone to see, their model very carefully perfected to their original design.

“Very nicely done,” Hornet said, attempting to add a small note of praise in her voice. Brush stared at her for a moment before shrugging briefly in what she could only assume was hesitant thanks. That was . . . good enough, she supposed.

“How about yours, Hollow?” Sheo asked, turning to the other side of the table.

Hollow carefully held up their model. The petals were a bit droopy, and the eyes weren’t entirely straight, but it was obvious they had put as much care into the work as their shaky hand would allow, and even their blankest expression couldn’t entirely hide the small amount of happiness that was lit up in their eyes at their craft. Hornet couldn’t blame them for that, not even in the slightest.

“Pretty!” Ghost signed emphatically, standing up in their seat to make sure their praise was seen. Hollow’s only response was to nod, but Hornet could tell well enough that they were pleased to have their sibling’s approval.

“And have you made one as well, Hornet?” Sheo asked, his attention now directed to her.

For a moment, Hornet was quiet. She looked down at her own creation, hidden from the others’ view by her claws. Slowly, she lifted it up for them to see, turning it a little so everyone could have a direct look.

There was nothing particularly notable about it; she had followed the instructions of the design just as the others (or at least Brush and Hollow) had done, and her silk fork wasn’t notably better than the others’ either, because she had helped them all with the weaving of their own. But Sheo beamed all the same, pride clearly displayed on his face.

“Very beautiful,” he said kindly. “Perhaps you could join our art sessions more often?”

Hornet looked from the Nailmaster to the smallest sibling seated at the far corner of the table. They didn’t meet her eyes at first, but eventually they lifted their mask to look her way. They didn’t glare, or quickly turn away in discomfort; they simply stared.

And then, they gave her the smallest nod.

A tension that Hornet hadn’t noticed building in her shoulders suddenly relaxed, and she had to work to hold back an audible sigh. “Yes,” she answered quietly. “I think I might.”

Sheo nodded but did not make further comment on the offer, letting the conversation quietly drop. The hut slowly faded back into the calm atmosphere of creating and crafting, a small safe haven in a world slowly awakening anew.

Maybe it was ok to slowly awaken with it.


	31. A Very Normal Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herrah finally teaches Hollow how to effectively hug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Skye
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

Hollow looked down at their lap, their hand slowly clenching and unclenching around the bunched-up part of their cloak in a way that Herrah had come to learn was a tell of their anxiety and frustration.

This was not how she had intended this conversation to go.

“I am not disappointed in you, nor am I scolding you,” she explained, keeping her voice level and calm. “In fact, I would consider this to be a very normal lesson that we all must learn at some point. I cannot recount to you just how many times I had to teach your sister as a spiderling about the importance of carefulness with her frequent biting.”

She had tried for humor, something casual and light for the vessel to hold onto, but her words seemed to only stress Hollow out even further.

“If you have little to no experience with an action, is not a need to learn to be expected?” Herrah asked, keeping her words soft, gentle. “Do we not all have places of needed growth?”

The vessel looked up to her then, tilting their mask slightly and clenching their hand more tightly into their cloak. _Ah, they disagreed._

“You might be surprised to know that I too have many things still to learn,” Herrah told them. “For starters, I have yet to learn to cook decently enough to feed others besides myself. Very remiss of both a mother and a queen, wouldn’t you think?”

Hollow stared at her for a long moment, and she could tell they were disbelieving.

“I also cannot swim,” she continued. “And am terrible at riddles. These are all things I would need to learn, and in order to do that, someone would have to sit down and teach me. Do you think that is negligible of me, that I do not know these things on my own?”

They continued to stare at her, holding still for a long time before slowly shaking their head.

“I would agree,” Herrah said. “Even though sometimes I think I could work harder, lacking skills is not a flaw, not if I am willing to learn them if the need arises. The same is true for you.”

Again, Hollow looked down to their lap, their hand slowly unclenching before tightening once more.

“It is alright that you didn’t know,” Herrah added quietly. “I do not hold that against you, and I can attest that your sister does not either. But if you would permit, I would like to help you learn how to perform the action better in the future. Is that alright?”

Hollow’s grip tightened further, to the point that Herrah almost worried they might rip the cloth, before loosening entirely and giving her a small nod.

Herrah couldn’t help the look of fondness she gave them for that. “Thank you,” she said, shifting so that she was sitting more directly in front of them now. “When giving someone a hug, you want to be sure the other person is equally comfortable, particularly if they are the one most in need of it. You do not need to grip them too tightly – your claws should not sink into them – but you want to ensure that they feel secure, so a certain level of firmness should be present. You do this by placing whatever limbs you are using around them, generally close to the shoulders or middle back, and simply holding for as long as the hug is desired. Some people enjoy the repetitive motions of hands either moving back and forth or in continuous circles, but some may prefer stillness. It is alright to take the time to learn what the other person enjoys best – there is always room for further understanding.”

Hollow nodded, looking down at their hand and flexing their fingers slightly, inspecting the length of their claws, Herrah guessed. They were quite long, but not particularly sharp; the edges were rough and chipped in some places from their time sealed in the Temple, but they could still pose a serious threat if used accordingly.

“However,” Herrah continued. “If you are on the receiving end of a hug, it is not always expected for you to return the embrace. Sometimes simply allowing yourself to be held is participation enough; even holding onto the other person from the front is alright. But you still want to make sure you are being gentle, even if being firm.”

Hollow nodded again, looking back up to Herrah’s eyes.

“Do you need further clarification, or do you think you understand?” she asked.

Hollow stared for a while, and Herrah could practically hear the gears turning inside their mask. Eventually, they looked back down for a brief moment before returning their gaze to her and lifting their arm, slightly extended in her direction.

A request? A demonstration?

_Oh, this vessel was doing a number of things to her heart today, weren’t they?_

Herrah nodded. “Of course,” she said, and she carefully leaned towards them, reaching out her first two limbs and pulling Hollow into her embrace, guiding their arm with one of her second limbs to wrap around her back. They let their hand rest just against her shoulder, gripping a bit tightly onto her hood at first before making their hand loosen into something more relaxed.

“That’s better,” Herrah reassured them, patting their back gently. “Do you agree that this is more comfortable?”

Hollow nodded, the side of their mask lightly brushing against her face as they rested it onto her shoulder opposite their hand. She could feel their near constant tension slowly ebbing away as they became something much closer to boneless, until they were eventually fully relaxed in her hold.

Herrah hummed, the deep rumble of her voice purring lightly in her chest as she began to rub slow circles on their back. She could feel more than hear them release a quiet breath as they sank more firmly into her embrace.

They did not attempt to move for a long time. And though she had tasks that needed to be seen to that day, Herrah thought that for now, the most important thing she could do was hug her child.

There were many years of catching up to do, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was in response to that ending line of So Weep 'Til You Drown (Or Until You've Run Dry) where Herrah remarks about how there will be plenty of time for her to teach Hollow how to hug in the future. Well, she finally does it, and Hollow is very excited about their newfound skill afterwards.


	32. Without Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Pale King gets an unexpected visitor to his workshop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: Some Happy Shit Where The Pale King And White Lady Are Good Parents I Suppose

“They found one _where?_ ”

“In the Greenpath, Your Majesty,” the royal retainer explained, her tired huff not fully able to hide the small smile she wore. “The Mosskin were rather confused, but ultimately happy enough to watch over them until one of the Knights could retrieve the child.”

The Pale King sighed, rubbing small circles at the point between His eyes. “They are well, I presume?”

“Happy as can be,” His retainer responded with an obvious lilt in her voice. “In fact I believe Loyal Ogrim reported that the child had passed out while on the stag ride back to the Palace; ‘exhausted from playing’, he said.”

Well, that was good at least. “Are all the children accounted for now?”

The retainer scanned her scroll, making quiet notes to herself before responding, “Yes, Your Majesty. All five thousand, two hundred, and seventy-four children have been escorted to their rooms and tucked safely into bed, the younger ones given their appropriate bedtime stories and the older ones having already completed their tasks for the day.”

The Pale King nodded. “Good,” He said softly. “Has My Lady seen to them yet?”

“Mm,” the retainer hummed. “The White Lady promptly gave them all their goodnight kisses as soon as the lost one was returned safely. She asked that You please do not delay before giving Your own.”

The King sighed once again, looking at the disassembled automaton on His workbench. He hadn’t intended to be fussing with it so late into the night; He really must keep better track of time, mustn’t He?

“Tell My Lady I will see to it shortly,” He told the retainer. “Thank you; you are dismissed.”

The retainer bowed before stepping out of the workshop, closing the door softly behind her. The Pale King made a final last few adjustments before setting His work down for the night, slumping slightly in His chair with yet another tired sigh.

There was a quiet sound of shifting fabric, and the Pale King sat back up quickly, scanning the room for the source of the noise. It didn’t take Him long before He spotted two pronged horns poking out from behind another bench, their light glowing faintly in the dark.

_How many times was He going to sigh tonight?_

“You are supposed to be in bed, child,” He told them, rising to His feet to walk over to where they had been hiding. “You’ll worry your mother if she discovers another one has gone missing.”

The child poked their mask fully out from their hiding place now, looking down a little sheepishly before returning their attention to Him and holding up their arms, wagging them back and forth a little.

Ah, of course.

The Pale King leaned down and picked the child up, holding them close against His thorax and stroking the back of their mask gently. “You may stay for a while, but you will have to go to bed soon,” He told them.

The child simply nodded, snuggling more closely into His chest.

The Pale King returned to His bench, sitting down and carefully rocking back and forth, hoping the motion would lull the child into sleep.

It worked like a charm, as the motion always did, and the child was out within minutes.

He rested His chin gently atop their mask, continuing the light rocking movements. “Sleep well, child,” He whispered into the quiet. “And may your rest be without Dreams.”

He did not leave His workshop for some time that night.


	33. You Don't Talk Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long-awaited chance to apologize
> 
> (spoilers concerning Broken Vessel in this AU)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Laurie
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

Hollow looked over when they sat down beside them, holding on a bit tightly to the scroll in their hand before setting it down in their lap. They tilted their mask to the side in question but gave no other words.

“That’s what Ghost said, that you don’t talk much,” Shore went on, their void echoing strangely in their mask with the words. They were still not used to using voidspeak again after having gone without it for so long, but they supposed this would be better than signing. Hollow only knew the Deepnest Sign Language, after all, whereas Oro had only taught them an older Hallownest dialect.

Their sibling didn’t confirm or deny it, but Shore supposed that simple act of not answering at all was an answer in itself.

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” they told them. “I can talk instead. My dad says I’m good at that.”

It was hard to tell what expression Hollow was making, and Shore couldn’t ignore the pang of guilt they felt because of that. It had been too long since they’d been around siblings – aside from Ghost that is – and they weren’t good at parsing cues beyond the expressionless masks anymore. They bitterly wondered if that was how Oro felt dealing with them the first few years they’d been in his care; they must’ve been a real pain.

“I mean Oro, by the way,” they explained, figuring that was a good place to start. “Not my actual dad, obviously. . . Just the bug who raised me. Guess I got lucky with that; apparently Ghost didn’t have anyone to raise them at all.”

Hollow still didn’t do anything more beyond stare, but their hand wasn’t doing the clenching thing Ghost had warned them about, so maybe that was a good sign.

“Sorry, by the way,” Shore added, a bit more quietly. “We were going to look for you when we got out, but . . . I got separated, and I guess Ghost and Brush got separated too. We didn’t find you like we’d hoped. Sorry.”

They looked away from Hollow now, taking sudden interest in the way their claws clicked against the fingers of their other hand. They continued, “Sorry we didn’t . . . reach you, either. Back in the Abyss. Should probably apologize for that first.”

If Hollow’s expression was any more readable now, Shore didn’t see, didn’t dare to yet look.

“I was one of the biggest ones; it should have been one of us to reach the top, not you. You . . . you shouldn’t have gone through all of that. All of everything. I’m sorry; I didn’t protect you like I should have. I didn’t save you.”

Inky black spots clouded their vision, and some quiet part of their mind scoffed at the irony of it. Whatever they had that counted for eyes was already composed entirely of void; why should tears be substantial enough to blur their sight like this?

“I’m-I’m sorry, Hollow. I’m so, so sorry.”

Voices constructed of empty silence shouldn’t crack, but that never seemed to stop them, huh?

Shore reached up to scrub at their mask, to at least clear away the tears from their one good eye, but the movement was interrupted by an arm much larger than their own carefully wrapping around them and pulling them into a cold embrace.

Cold. They were cold just like themself, their carapace was warped and cracked and burned in places like their own, and maybe that similarity hit home a little hard. Maybe the reassurance of the sibling they had thought for most of their life had been lost forever now hugging them firmly, with so much care and comfort, broke something in them in an entirely different way than how they were already broken.

Maybe the knowledge that they were somehow alive, and that some of their family was too, was a little too much to bear. Because when they wrapped their arms around Hollow in return, and their tears flowed so freely they thought surely all of their void was going to leak out then and there, the exhaustion from the tension they had held for years finally being released nearly made them pass out with fatigue.

But that was ok. Their sibling held them; and even though that sibling was by all accounts younger (yet unreasonably so much taller), that didn’t take away from how safe they felt in their embrace. How comforting the familiar cold of void could be.

They weren’t sure they would ever be able to make it up to them, to feel like they’ve earned the forgiveness Hollow was so easily granting them with a single gesture in that moment. But it could be a start.

Yeah, a start.


	34. Play Nice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hornet meets another one of Ghost's friends for the first time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by a user on Tumblr
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

Hornet was a trained warrior. She had centuries of experience with combat, patience, and resolve. She did not lose her cool in a fight, or any other situation for that matter. She was _calm_. She was _collected_. She was _not going to stab this stupid ant barely through their first introductions._

But oh, was the ant testing her.

“Seriously pale thing, _this_ is the sister you wanted me to meet so badly?” he said with an obvious note of disappointment. “I thought you said she was a mighty warrior?”

It took every last bit of Hornet’s resolve to hold her needle steady and not skewer it through the ant’s face right then and there.

“You speak as if you know well what it means to hold such a title,” she challenged instead, tilting her mask upwards to fix him with the full of her glare. “From where I stand, I see not a warrior but a fool.”

“Should I kneel down so you can get a better look, then?” he asked, and by Wyrm was he _smirking at her?!_

“You will not have a choice in the matter once I relieve you of your knees,” she hissed, swinging her needle back as if to strike – composure be damned.

But Little Ghost inserted themself between the pair of them before she could see her threat through, waving their little arms frantically around the sides of their mask in one of the most emphatic displays of attempted communication Hornet had seen them perform. It was obvious they weren’t entirely sure how to get across whatever they wished to say, and they eventually had to settle for simply holding their arms out in both directions, one towards Hornet and one towards the armored menace in a stupid blue hood. If it were anyone else besides her sibling, Hornet might have elected to ignore their obvious request of a ceasefire entirely and finished him off without another word of warning.

They looked between her and their . . . friend? _Goodness, was her sibling truly friends with this pest?_ Their empty gaze eventually fell upon her, and with quick, repetitive motions, they signed, “No. No. No. No.”

“I will stand down when this worthless squib learns to bite his tongue and taste his own blood for a change,” Hornet stated, still holding her needle at the ready.

“That sounds like a challenge, princess,” the ant remarked, and _oh he was smirking. Hornet was going to kill him._ “Think I can hold you to that?”

Little Ghost shot their mask around to face the ant now, pointing at him more seriously and repeating the sign they had just relayed to her.

The ant sighed; an exhausted sound, one that Hornet would have taken offense to merely on principle if there hadn’t also been a note of something . . . else underneath. “I don’t know this kingdom’s signs, remember? Try that again.”

Ghost’s shoulders slumped a little before straightening up again, and they unsheathed their nail from their back and began scratching words into the dirt. The ant knelt down, watching quietly as Ghost wrote and seemingly waiting for them to finish. Though the message for her was upside down, Hornet could still easily make out the surprisingly neat scrawl.

_“Sister – love. You – friend. Also love. Be nice.”_

The ant stared at Ghost for a moment, still remaining (blessedly) quiet, as if considering their message carefully. Hornet waited, her claws itching to swing her needle if necessary, but for now remaining resolutely still in their grip on the hilt. Eventually, the ant sighed, and slowly reached forward to pat the top of Ghost’s mask twice.

“Sure, whatever you say, pale thing,” he grumbled. “I’ll play nice.”

Hornet hadn’t known Ghost for long yet, but she could tell that despite their lack of usual expressions they were now radiating something akin to pleased. Satisfaction, perhaps? Contentment? Relief? Fondness? She wasn’t sure, not entirely. But the patient display this hooded menace had given her sibling was . . . unexpected, albeit welcome. With mild reluctance, Hornet returned her needle to her back, but still held the ant with wary eyes.

Perhaps they could try that introduction again.


	35. The Whole of the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promises are made, and a hope for the future comes into view

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: [REDACTED]

“When I was young, I used to think I could see the whole of the world from up here.”

Hollow turned their mask towards him, looking away from the twinkling lights of the night sky to give Grimm their full attention. Neither celestial body nor torched flames reflected in their fathomless eyes, but he would be a liar to say that he did not see a sparkle within their depths all the same. Was that sparkle reserved for him, or was it perhaps something they always carried? Something integral to who they were – a glowing light that matched so beautifully the melody of their soul.

“I was wrong, of course,” Grimm continued, turning away for a moment to look out onto the festival below them. “I soon learned that the world was far greater than any eyes could see all at once, no matter the heights to which they traveled.”

Hollow followed his gaze, looking down to the denizens of Hallownest milling about in wonder and glee at the excitement surrounding them. It had been some time since his Troupe stopped in this pale kingdom – he was certain most of the bugs had likely not even been alive to see the last time their crimson tents made camp in their fields.

What a thrill to experience something new for the first time.

“Though I may not be able to see the whole of the world from here, I have walked its roads both seen and unseen, and my eyes have since become contented with fulfilling that dream from so long ago,” he said. “But I would walk it again. To see the whole world – that is an honor few ever receive. I am one of the fortunate to have been blessed with such sight.”

Though his eyes were still turned below, he could feel the weight of Hollow’s stare once more on him. It took everything to keep himself from smiling with that knowledge.

“I think about that dream, though,” he hummed softly. “Every time I gaze upon the world from up high, I wonder what it would be like to see the whole of the world at one moment. To have such omnipresent sight. But such thoughts are only dreams – even beings such as myself cannot have every dream fulfilled, you see. For a long time, I have known this well.”

He raised his head, turning now to face Hollow and holding their gaze with the scarlet intensity of his own. “I had given up on seeing such a dream met,” Grimm explained. “And yet, sitting here at the height of the world, I find myself struck with the knowledge that I have been wrong.”

Hollow had been listening intently, he knew this. They were always a good listener, and when they were no longer interested in listening, or wished to make their own thoughts known, they had become quick to tell him so. But they remained still, merely tilting their mask in earnest interest.

Grimm’s heart might have swelled at that.

“The whole of the world has been granted to my eyes in one singular place,” he said. “And it is far grander than the times before when I walked it in steady motion. The world is here, before me now, and it listens with quiet attention. It responds with patient kindness. It dances with unashamed joy, and it holds my heart with delicate care.”

He reached forward, taking Hollow’s hand with his own and holding it between them. “The whole of the world is here, with me. And if the world permits, I would like to walk it again and again; and perhaps the world will walk with me, too. Would you like that, Hollow? Would you wish to walk with me, to dance down roads both seen and unseen, to live that dream again and again for our eternity? Would you give me that honor?”

For a time, Hollow was perfectly still. They looked down to the hand that was held in his, carefully moving it to rest upon his own for a moment before lifting it in answer.

“Yes. Forever. Through eternity and beyond, a thousand times, yes.”

The world below glowed in crimson and joy. And the world ahead danced with endless hope.

Forever through eternity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This piece went through some edits just now when posting here (mostly sentence structure and grammatical fixes) so if you are someone who likes writing certain fics down -you know who you are, Individual- it might be something you'd like to be aware of, assuming you check these updates
> 
> Also. I have so many drabbles still left to post in this fic. Holy shit.


	36. An Attempt at Humor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Vessel tries something new

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Eren
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“Yes, Hollow?”

They carefully tapped her shoulder, and then tapped the outside of one of her hands where the honey treats had been held a moment ago. A request for more.

“I’m sorry, Hollow,” Hornet said, her tone apologetic. “I’m afraid I ate the last one.”

That was alright. Midwife made honey treats frequently, and she had even offered to teach them how to make them as well. It was entirely possible they could even find her now and ask if she was available to teach them this evening. It would not be a difficult task.

But a certain idea was turning inside of the Vessel’s head, one that had been tugging at their mind for a few weeks now. After having observed Ghost and the numerous hijinks they pulled on their sister, and having even seen the other two siblings (especially the bigger one, the one like them) causing their own unique forms of trouble, the Vessel was beginning to think that perhaps they would be permitted to engage with their sister in a similar fashion.

It was safe to try, wasn’t it?

They lowered their mask a little, looking to Hornet with what they hoped were eyes of sorrow. “Sister . . . does not love me?” they carefully signed, mimicking the words Ghost so often said to her in similar situations. “Sister loves me no longer?”

For a moment, Hornet simply stared. She almost appeared dumbstruck – an expression she rarely wore. Had they gone too far? Had the joke not been performed correctly?

“What do you mean? Of course I love you, Hollow,” she eventually said, her stalled words now coming out rather quickly. “Why would you think I do not? I apologize if I have given you such a reason to believe so. What makes you think this?”

Oh. Oh no. They hadn’t performed the joke correctly. How were they to fix it? The Vessel had never made this mistake before – had never attempted a joke at all before – so they couldn’t look back on prior experiences for help. Perhaps they could answer in a way Ghost would? Or one of the other siblings? Hmm, no that wouldn’t work. Ghost would likely start panicking, and they were sure that would not help matters. Shore would have an eloquent answer prepared to mend the mistake, and the Vessel’s lack of such a response was exactly the current problem. As for Brush, well, they weren’t really close enough to Hornet to be in this situation at all, were they?

Herrah. Herrah would know how to respond to this. She was always so good with words, even in times where only few were spoken. Perhaps they could simply follow her example? They imagined she would likely comfort or reassure, but wouldn’t that make the entire effort null? Wouldn’t that ruin this attempt and any future attempts at joking forever? Perhaps they should continue with the joke to mend the mistake, so that the first half of this exchange would be worthwhile?

Herrah liked to use wordplay when joking, didn’t she? Something like that should suffice.

They looked at Hornet, bringing up a claw to tap against their mask before answering, “No think. Mask empty of thoughts. Only love for sister. And desire for honey treats.” Yes, perfect.

Hornet was quiet, the expression of concern slowly shifting into something much more resembling confusion. “Hollow, was that an attempt at . . . humor?”

They nodded, as quickly as they could manage without making the world spin uncomfortably from the movement.

For a long moment, the room was quiet. Then slowly, Hornet’s shoulders began to shake, and quiet hitched breaths could be heard coming from underneath her mask.

Was she . . . laughing?

“Hollow,” she said, her voice tight in increasingly obvious giggles. “You are completely ridiculous and have clearly been around our siblings and mother much too long. How could you betray me like this, as the only other level-headed one here?”

Was she . . . no. No, this was a joke too, wasn’t it? Yes, it must be. Their own shoulders shook now, their laughter notably quieter than hers but there all the same. It had been a success then, hadn’t it?

They would have to attempt this again, perhaps for Ghost or Herrah next time.


	37. You Don't Like Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bitter confrontation
> 
> (Spoilers regarding the Broken Vessel and Greenpath Vessel in the We Are Wide Awake Now AU)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Spot
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“You don’t like me.”

For a long moment, Shore didn’t respond. They dug their claws into their palms underneath their cloak and resolutely looked at the wall to the right of Hornet’s mask. The halls of Deepnest’s innermost den were chillingly quiet, but the faint notes of spider’s silk that still vibrated along the walls as those large beasts stalked the passageways below set Shore’s void on edge, almost making them wish the home of the Beast was truly silent.

After all, they only added to the already disquieting unease given off by the spider standing before them. As if one threat wasn’t enough in this place.

Shore shook their mask in answer to her question. “No,” they agreed, their signs quick, sharp. “I don’t.”

Hornet nodded, as if she expected their answer. Well, it’s not like they had kept it much of a secret, had they? “I see,” she replied, her voice hushed, most likely in acknowledgement of the late hour. “I suppose it is something I have done, then?”

They crossed their arms beneath their cloak, closing themself off a bit more. Did she mean to say she didn’t even know, or was the question simply to humor them? To get them to talk?

“If you’re this concerned, I would recommend you ask Brush,” Shore told her, fingers almost snapping together in their movements, mask tilted in impatience. “But I would honestly rather you not talk to them at all.”

They could see her recoil slightly. Was that in shock? Offense? Hurt? Anger? They couldn’t be sure, hadn’t known Hornet nearly long enough to read her tells. They weren’t even sure they would want that at all.

“Brush,” Hornet echoed, her voice not much more than a whisper. Something within Shore’s void twitched at that, bristling at her daring to speak their name, but they kept still for now. “The little one, yes?”

It really wasn’t a question, was it?

“Yes,” they said, nodding along with the sign. “The little one.”

For another long moment, the halls returned to their eerie not-quiet. It made Shore’s carapace crawl, made them want to tear through the walls and get out of these dark tunnels and back into more open air. Even the light sounded more desirable in that moment.

But they were here visiting family, their siblings. And if that meant dealing with the trouble of facing their sister as well, they were going to have to put up with it.

“You know, I’m—” Hornet began, before cutting herself off. “I am sorry,” she tried again, her voice more breath than real noise at this point. “I truly am.”

She didn’t meet their eyes either, and somehow that felt . . . wrong. Untrue of the brave warrior Ghost spoke so highly of. Did that make her a coward?

Or did that make her honest?

Shore straightened a bit, turning to face down the hallway towards the room where their siblings slept. “I’m not the one who needs an apology,” they signed to her simply, turned towards her still just enough for her to see their movements. “But I promise you, Brush doesn’t want to hear it, either.”

In the end, it didn’t matter if she were honest. The damage had already been done, and death hurt a bit too deeply to forget so easily.

Not that Hornet could truly understand that. Not like how they did, not like how the rest of their siblings did. Hornet wasn’t privy to such details, to such connections. That was a painful secret for them and their siblings to share. Alone.

And as much as they might’ve hated her, Hornet did not deserve to be welcomed there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Forgets for like four months that I still had some drabbles I never posted here-
> 
> Hi I'm not back to regular posting yet, life has been . . . a mess. But I'm trying to pick up writing again, because so many of my Hollow Knight works were left unfinished and I still have much I want to do with my AUs. So . . . here's hoping I'll get back in the groove soon?


	38. As You Left Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dream finally crumbles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

_“What do you intend to do with the throne upon which you sit?”_

They were here again, in the darkest point of this too-bright place. They found they could visit it often, despite the dream realm itself steadily fading into ruin. There were no gods watching over it anymore, nothing to rule this realm of light and whispered desires.

There was only the dark, and the dark had no interest in dreams.

They regarded the broken shell lying below their feet, its mask cracked in some places and shattered in others like glass. No longer did it glow with an ethereal brilliance, but instead stared at them with sockets long-since emptied of the rot that had once been eyes.

Its head did not turn, but they knew it regarded them, anyways. Never would a day come that they would forget the damnable whispers of its voice.

 ** _“Nothing,”_** they tell it. **_“Let it crumble. Let it vanish. Hallownest will live on without it.”_**

 _“A kingdom without a king,”_ it remarked. _“How bold.”_

 ** _“Its king did not save them,”_** they told it. **_“I did.”_**

 _“And here you sit,”_ it agreed. _“Yet you will not bear it?”_

They shook their mask, tendrils of shadows billowing with the movement. **_“Other calls are more important than kings and kingdoms. Home is more important than thrones.”_**

_“A throne can be a home.”_

**_“Was it for you?”_ **

The shattered shell did not answer that.

They relaxed a little in their seat, shifting so that the shadows settled more comfortably. **_“Sister could rule. Sister could do whatever she wants with your failures.”_**

 _“That was not her burden to bear,”_ the shell said.

**_“Then it’s mine?”_ **

It did not answer that, either.

The shadows rumbled, filling the room with a low hum of disquiet. **_“Sister carried your burdens, already. She might be ready to throw them away.”_**

 _“That is her right,”_ the shell agreed.

The shadows twitched, curled into themselves with a silent hiss. **_“Then why do you ask I carry them instead?”_**

 _“You bear the mark,”_ it told them. _“You already chose this burden.”_

 ** _“I stole it,”_** they corrected. **_“To fix your mistakes, not to accept them.”_**

 _“So you admit to thievery?”_ it asked. “ _To taking what isn’t yours to claim?”_

The shadows relaxed as they nodded. **_“For my siblings. For my family.”_**

 _“You do not think a king would keep them safe?”_ questioned the shell.

**_“Did you?”_ **

Again, no answer.

 ** _“Why are you awake?”_** they asked it, shadows creeping in more closely around them. **_“Why do you return to demand things of me?”_**

 _“I am exactly as you left me,”_ it told them. _“Long ago have I passed on. This dream crumbles and will soon be nothing more than motes of light in the wind. Any demands you perceive I make come only from the mind still supporting these walls. You did claim a mind for yourself, did you not?”_

The darkness shifted. Had the walls always been so dull?

 _“I am dead, Ghost of Hallownest,”_ the shell said. _“You desecrated my corpse. The only soul left in this realm is your own.”_

The darkness grew, and the shadows began to wail. Whatever light had once poured in from the hallways beyond the room slowly diffused into empty space.

_“It’s time you awoke. This world holds nothing more for you.”_

The darkness overwhelmed; the shadows shrieked.

And the world shattered into motes of empty light.


	39. Expressions of Excitement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghost tries to teach the child a lesson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Laurie
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

The child was _deliberately_ being difficult.

For the dozenth time, Ghost once again pointed to the graph they had scrawled onto their silk scroll, first pointing out the Y axis, then pointing out the X axis, and finally noting the information within the graph itself. Honestly, how could they be any clearer?!

The child looked over their notes, seemingly studying them carefully, but Ghost knew better. They had long since learned to read the child’s expressions, knew without even needing to hear them speak how to recognize when the child was lying by the air in their wings. Or the fire in their breath, more like. No amount of dedicated performative pondering would trick Ghost into believing that the child was actually taking this seriously, and it made them want to roll up their scroll and promptly whack the child’s horns with it.

They, of course, did _not_ do that.

“Do you understand?” they asked, hands not even fumbling once over the words now that they’d repeated themself for what felt like the hundredth time.

The child looked to them, looked back to the graph, and then shook their head with a gleeful chirp.

_For fuck’s sake._

“You cannot use that many yeehaws at once!” they snapped, claws clicking together in frustration. “Expressions of excitement are a delicate resource that must be honored! Too many yeehaws will water down the value!”

The child cocked their head to the side, considered them for a moment, and resolutely screeched what Ghost had learned all too well now was their approximation of _“yeehaw”_ before flying off the balcony of the Den and descending into the Village below, delighted cackling echoing up through the cavern.

Ghost sighed - a barely noticeable movement of air forcefully pushed through the eye sockets of their mask by void - and flopped onto the floor behind them in resigned acceptance.

They really should have waited to teach the child all of the fancy words they learned in the Wastelands once they were older, honestly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't ask; I don't even know, either.


	40. Gifts of Her Labor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quirrel and Monomon fall back into old grooves together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“Quirrel, hand me that vile.”

“I handed it to you already, Madam,” Quirrel answered, an undeniable note of fondness in his voice. “You’ve set it down just there.”

“Have I?” Monomon turned to where Quirrel had indicated, noticing the small vial of soil from the late Knight Isma’s Grove, sitting just to her left on the workbench. “Ah. Where would my head be without you?”

“Likely lost in the Wastelands somewhere, I’d imagine,” he replied with a laugh. “Luckily, I kept a good eye on it.”

“That you did,” Monomon agreed, reaching a tentacle out to pat his head. “Eye dropper?”

“Eye dropper,” Quirrel echoed, handing the requested tool to another of her outstretched tentacles. “You are certain the soil from the Grove can be used to expedite plant growth in Dirtmouth?”

“One can hope,” Monomon said. “Great Knight Isma was not only a fierce warrior, but an excellent gardener. And she left behind for us many gifts of her labor – it would be remiss if we did not use them.”

Quirrel could not disagree with that. “It will be nice to see the flowers return to the surface town,” he remarked. “Not to mention, of course, a bountiful harvest again.”

“If we are to rebuild our home, we ought to be prepared to feed all the new mouths we’ll gain,” the Teacher replied with a small laugh. “I look forward to Hallownest being filled with laughter once more.”

“As do I,” Quirrel said softly. And what a sight it would be, to see the kingdom growing like it used to, full of life as it should be.

How remarkable that such life would spring anew from the hands of what should have been lifeless, accompanied by flames that normally heralded death. There was something poetic to it, he was sure, but it had been some time since he’d bothered with poetry, hadn’t it?

Maybe he would pick that up again as well. The Madam might be interested to hear – she was always so encouraging of his endeavors outside of the Archives. Perhaps he could even find others to join him. That little friend and their family might take interest in the cheer of lovely words, especially after having gone so long without such things.

He would have to ask them next time they stopped by to visit.

“Quirrel?”

Oh. He shook himself out of this thoughts. “Yes, Madam?”

“Sample #3B9T?”

“Right away, Madam!”

His multitasking could probably use some work, as well, it would seem.


	41. Well-Earned Growth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghost experiences something new

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by lizardlover67 on tumblr
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

It hurt.

Their shell ached and ached and felt too tight and though their void within didn’t feel unsettled, they were sure their shade would attempt to break out at any given moment. Everything hurt, and itched, and they had the vaguest sense that they might be dying.

Maybe ascending with the void had consequences for themself, after all.

They couldn’t tell their sister about it, nor could they tell their siblings. What if it frightened them? What if it only added to stress that they already had to endure? Hadn’t they caused enough harm as it were?

But their avoidance didn’t go unnoticed, because of course it wouldn’t. Not while under the watchful eyes of the Beast, in her den that sometimes felt much too small and much too big at the same time. She found them curled up in their nest, hidden under as many blankets as they could gather from their own and the child’s (while they weren’t looking, of course), not at all fooled by the amorphous lump of silk that was them. Did so many eyes grant her the ability to see what others could not perceive? Did she hold senses as a mother that they themself could not begin to comprehend?

The blankets were shifted back from over their mask, and the sight of Herrah looking down at them with the child hovering not far behind greeted their tired gaze. Ah. Of course it was the child who betrayed them like this. Little scamp.

“Are you feeling unwell?” Herrah asked, and they’d heard her use that tone enough times with Hornet and Hollow to know it was one of maternal concern. Why she ever bothered to use that voice with them, they still did not understand.

Grabbing one of the blankets, they tugged it back over their eye sockets, shaking their mask defiantly. They were fine. Or at least, if they weren’t, no one else needed to worry about that. It was their own problem – not the child’s, not their siblings’, and certainly not their sister’s mother’s.

They could hear Herrah rumble in disapproval. “You expect me to believe that?”

. . . Alright, fair enough.

“Let me see,” she said, her voice accompanied by the sound of legs and silken blankets shifting as she sat down beside their nest. Gently, but still with enough force to be firm, she pulled the blanket they were holding down from over their mask and rested one of her hands just above where their eyes should have been.

“You’re a bit colder than usual,” Herrah remarked, hesitating a bit in what sounded like confusion before continuing, “Do you feel achy?”

They didn’t immediately respond, but eventually nodded in affirmation.

Herrah hummed. “May I inspect your shell?” she asked.

They again took a while before nodding their consent.

Carefully, Herrah reached forward and propped them up, pulling back their cloak and looking over their carapace and poking at the occasional joint. “Hm, I’m afraid I have not had this discussion with Hollow, as it has not been yet relevant, but do vessels molt? From the looks of it, I would guess you’re about to have one.”

They looked up at her in confusion. _Do vessels what?_

Herrah noticed their stare. “Do you know what molting is?” she asked, tilting her head in question.

Distantly, they knew the word referred to a discarded shell, but not how it related to them now. Slowly, they shook their mask in the negative.

“I see,” Herrah said. “Then there are things we obviously need to discuss, likely with your siblings present, if that is alright with you. Molting is a form of growing – shedding your old shell that no longer fits so that you may form a new, larger one.”

They continued to stare at her for a long time. _What?_

Herrah rumbled in quiet laughter, and from where she still held them up they could feel it vibrate through her limbs. “Growing is a normal part of any living thing’s life, including a vessel’s,” she explained. “I’m sure Hollow is evidence enough, of that. It is nothing to fear; the discomforts are simply a sign of time passing and coming to new, well-earned growth.”

The child – who had been uncharacteristically silent until now – zoomed to their side, circling above their head a few times before resting down beside them and leaning against their shoulder while chirping their excitement.

They were . . . growing?

“I’m sure Hollow would be more than happy to inform you of what to expect,” Herrah continued. “Would you like me to bring them here?”

It took a moment of continued staring (and an eventual nudge from the child) before they could bring themself to nod in affirmation. Herrah rose back to standing, nodding in acknowledgement and leaving to find their sibling.

They were _growing_.

Oh.

The realization terrified them.

But maybe . . . it thrilled them a little, too.


	42. The Furtherment of Science

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quirrel and Tiso experience an interesting form of bonding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Luminesnake on tumblr
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“ _Absolutely not._ ”

“You didn’t even let me finish my suggestion,” Quirrel laughed, a sound all too amused for the given situation. The noise itself might have been pleasant, but there was no way Tiso would let _him_ know that, not under their current circumstances.

“I don’t need to let you finish; I’m not touching it!” he snapped, an accusatory claw pointed at the dish with luminous blue goop undulating threateningly within, practically mocking him.

“It won’t hurt you. Probably,” Quirrel assured. “There are little to no records left on the subject of lifeblood, and I’m afraid the only living bug still in Hallownest with any direct experience is, well . . . an outlier, to say the least. I need recent test results to conduct my hypothesis.”

“Can’t your boss or whatever she is help you, then?” Tiso questioned, crossing his arms and glaring down at the dish as if his stare alone could render it obsolete.

Quirrel was still for a moment before softly shaking his head. “I’m afraid the Madam would not . . . approve of such inquisitions. Laws regarding involvement with lifeblood were unquestionably staunch during Hallownest’s reign, and that is not a predisposition that the Madam will so willingly give up.”

“That’s a lot of words for saying this shit’s illegal and your boss isn’t into that,” Tiso grumbled. “So you’re asking me to break the ancient laws, because?”

A strange look came to Quirrel’s face, like it wanted to light up, but something strained it awkwardly in the attempt. “Why, because there isn’t a single bug in Hallownest braver than the one standing before me, of course. If anyone could willingly risk the unknowns of lifeblood’s effects on living creatures for the furtherment of science, it would be you, yes?”

Tiso’s chest puffed up a little, his posture suddenly straighter and head held higher, almost matching sightlines with Quirrel. “Heh, you are right about that, scholar – well played. I’ll go along with your little science experiment and spare the poor weaklings of the world from such terrors, as any true warrior would!”

Perhaps he was a bit hasty to immediately slam his hands down into the dish, rubbing the gelatinous . . . whatever the hell it was . . . into all the grooves of his fingers so that it might seep beneath his carapace. If this was a test of bravery, he ought to go all-out, right?

And if that strange little pale thing had to flush the lifeblood out later with _the literal void_ , well, he could now say he survived _two_ probably deadly elements.


	43. The Kingdom of Bells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two friends share in a song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Luminesnake on tumblr
> 
> AU: idk something where Cloth actually lives

“Do you know the legend of the kingdom of bells?”

“I’m sorry, the w-what?” Myla asked, tilting her head to the side in confusion.

“Oh, it’s a magnificent story!” Cloth exclaimed, her voice booming through the caverns of the mines, echoing off walls and crystals alike. “Legends speak of a kingdom of bells far, far away, in a place of light that leads ever upwards. Apparently, the draw is one of attunement, some sort of quest for inner peace sought out by those willing to pilgrim the journey to its peaks.”

“I don’t believe I’ve heard this–this legend before,” Myla admitted, jogging a little to keep up with Cloth’s stride. “How does it go?”

“Oh, you’ll love it,” Cloth said. “The legend is told through a song!”

And just as if the crystals listened with the same rapt attention to Cloth’s words as Myla did, the tunnel began to glow just that much brighter in anticipation.

“B-by all means, sing away!” Myla encouraged, a newfound leap in her step.

With a breath and a pause, Cloth held still for a moment, until a low note began and carried forward into a melody, weaving through the walls and reflecting with the crystal’s lights, until the whole cavern rang with a song.

And when Myla caught herself humming along, she did not even feel for a moment a need to stop.


	44. 'It'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unusual moment of play between all siblings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Luminesnake on tumblr
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“Hold still before I relieve you of your limbs!”

Ghost, of course, did anything but, leaping into the air with a beat of crystalline wings and soaring out to a platform far below. And most importantly, out of their sister’s immediate reach.

“You may be able to run, but you cannot hide forever!” Hornet called after them, the note of laughter in her words ringing clearly throughout the Distant Village. To their right Ghost could see where Brush had taken cover in the darkened entryway of an empty den, and just below and to their left Hollow leapt from platform to platform, gaining ground against their sister’s needle’s wide reach.

The child screeched overhead, watching the game with a keen eye to keep tabs that everyone stayed within the game’s limits. But there was one still missing, still hiding from Hornet’s chase and somehow eluding even Ghost themself.

_Where was Shore?_

“You may have bested me before, Ghost of Hallownest, but I will be the one to claim victory tonight,” Hornet declared, raising her needle and reeling it back to throw, aimed for the platform just above where Ghost stood.

They should dash away, avoid her attack and make towards the Beast’s Den at the top of the Village, giving Brush ground to flee and Hollow a chance to strategize whatever they were planning. But they couldn’t bring themself to move in their sudden confusion. Where was their last sibling?

As if queued by the disturbance in their void, a shadow appeared just above where Hornet stood poised to strike, like a breath of darkness come to snuff out remnants of light.

Maybe it would have been fair to give her a warning, but Ghost kept perfectly still and simply watched as Shore snapped the needle from Hornet’s claws and sailed down to the platform next to Ghost, the most satisfied look adorning their mask that Ghost thought they had ever seen.

For a moment, Hornet just stared, dumbfounded. And then, “Wh – that’s cheating!”

“It’s not cheating!” Shore argued, needle affixed to their back to free up their hands. “I disarmed you fairly.”

“There is no disarming in tag!” Hornet snapped. “The rules clearly stated we are owed our own weapons and nothing more or nothing less to aid us!”

“Hands count as weapons. And I used my hands to disarm you.”

“That’s not how that rule works!”

A slight tapping on the platform just below drew everyone’s attention to Hollow, pulling themself up and looking unexpectedly amused. “Hornet did set the rules,” they signed simply.

“Well I made them more interesting.”

“That’s a funny way of admitting you cheated,” Hornet pointed out, crossing her arms.

Shore shrugged but didn’t argue with her further. Something told Ghost that they didn’t particularly mind her ire.

A tap sounded against a doorframe to their right, and Brush exited their hiding spot. “Does this mean Shore’s now _‘It’_ because they broke the rules?”

“Yes, actually,” Hornet said, beaming from her stance above them. “It absolutely does.”

“Wait, no it doesn’t,” Shore tried to argue. “Since when is that a rule?”

“Since now,” Hornet decided. “Good luck catching us.”

And before they could be given a chance to argue further, Hornet leaped down to the platform where Ghost and Shore both stood, snatched her needle, and flew across the Village, with Brush and Hollow both quickly following suit in their own ways.

Ghost only gave their sibling a halfhearted apologetic shrug before taking off as well, dropping far to the watery depths below.

There was no way their sibling would be willing to catch them here.


	45. Recent Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quirrel introduces a new friend to a less new friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“Since when do you know each other?”

Quirrel laughed, a little nervously if he were honest. He looked between his friend and the princess, feeling a bit sheepish at the bluntness of the question. “We were introduced not too long ago, now,” he explained. “Only within the recent days.”

He didn’t bring up their earlier encounter – that one might ought to be left alone for now.

The princess regarded him a bit skeptically, likely questioning his answer. Of course she hadn’t forgotten, not with the display she put on that night when he had finally returned to the once eternal kingdom.

“Yes, just recently,” she confirmed, the words drawn out a bit, as if she were sizing them up as she spoke them into existence. “My sibling introduced us.”

“Sibling?” Lemm asked, his head darting quickly between the princess and Quirrel. “There’s more of you?”

The princess didn’t seem to appreciate that response, based on the way her shoulders tensed. “And what of it?” she asked bitingly.

“Well, nothing, I suppose,” Lemm answered, turning his attention to the journal in his hands as if in search of a distraction from the princess’s eyes. “I just wasn’t aware so much royalty had survived.”

“If you are so curious, you’d be interested to know there are several of us, actually,” the princess informed him, and Quirrel could easily note the small hints of pride in her tone. Perhaps he would ask about that later?

“Ah. Of course.” The room was quiet for a beat, only the sound of rain drumming against the windows breaking the pause.

“Wait _, several?!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bear with me, I'm cleaning out my drabble document and am going to be posting a whole lot of stuff here in one go. Apologies for the upcoming spam.


	46. Not So Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interesting encounter in a moment of rest before battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“Oh, has no one told you?”

“Told me what?” Hornet asked, eyeing the cicada with a skeptical glare as her hands still methodically worked to clean her needle.

“There are beasts in these tunnels,” the cicada replied, her voice lowering as if she were telling a great secret. “It’s not much of a place for a little one like you, what with all these dangers.”

Hornet couldn’t decide if she would rather laugh or hiss in offense, so instead she kept her silence. It was no secret to her that she did not share a strong resemblance with her people, so she couldn’t truly fault the cicada for not knowing.

But that didn’t mean the insinuation lacked hurt.

“I will be fine,” she answered instead, a bit flatly. “Dangers are no stranger to me.”

The cicada hummed, a bit solemnly, Hornet thought. “That’s a shame,” she said. “What a terrible world we live in where ones so young must be acquainted with strife. But I won’t deny that the thrill of adventure can counterbalance the despair of uncertainty, wouldn’t you agree?”

Hornet merely nodded, humming a bit quietly herself. “Perhaps you speak true, or at least of a truth that might have existed long ago.”

She rose to her feet, needle seen to and returned to its place on her back. “But the world is not so kind anymore. You would do best to remember that.”

Hornet left the cicada and tunnels of her home behind, venturing towards the Wastes.

There was a vessel to hunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The vessel mentioned here is the Greenpath Vessel


	47. A Terrible Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hornet admits to a regret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“Had you not heard?”

Herrah turned away from her weaving, giving the full of her attention to her daughter. Hornet hadn’t looked up, her eyes still trailed on the threads in her hands as she worked in quiet focus.

“Heard what, Hornet?” she asked, her own voice lowered to match her daughter’s tone.

“What happened to . . . the other one,” she answered, her words trailing off in the way that Herrah knew meant Hornet did not want to divulge a truth out of some harbored guilt. “The one in Greenpath.”

Slowly, Herrah shook her head. “Your sibling has not discussed with me the details of the other two’s lives’,” she responded. “I did not think it pertinent to ask at the time.”

Hornet nodded, and the action looked so resigned Herrah felt her heart sink at the sight.

“Is there something you wish to tell me?” she asked, keeping her voice soft, her tone gentle. “You do not have to if you do not wish.”

She could see her daughter’s claws trembling as she slowly set down the silk. Looking up to Herrah, tears slowly beginning to well in her eyes, Hornet gasped in barely a whisper, “I did a terrible thing, Mother.”

No more weaving took place that night.


	48. You Shouldn't Be Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first face Herrah sees upon waking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“Please say this is real.”

She shouldn’t have shown such weakness. Not right then, not when the world could likely be falling apart just beyond her den. But the sight of Herrah’s best and longest friend standing before her, alive and well and not marred by time or Infection, left Deepnest’s Queen feeling like a spiderling again, too scared and confused to trust the reality before her eyes.

Too used to the lies of Dreams to so readily trust an obvious comfort.

“I should be asking you the same,” her Midwife responded, her voice just as shaky and uncertain as Herrah’s own. “You shouldn’t be awake.”

“No,” Herrah agreed. “No, I should not.”

And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

“A change has befallen the land,” Midwife continued, her voice growing a bit stronger as her shock wore off. “Something has set the world into motion again.”

Those words should have brought Herrah confused worry, but she did not feel like she had the strength to yet address those emotions.

She was awake. Her Midwife was alive. The seals had been broken and yet the Infection did not wage in full.

Something was amiss, and she had no time to waste in discovering just what that could be.


	49. The Melody You Will Bring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A final farewell between mother and daughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Shay
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“I told you, I’m not leaving!”

Herrah looked down at her daughter and felt her heart quietly shatter.

“It will be alright, child,” her Midwife assured the young Spiderling. “Your mother will be well looked after while she sleeps.”

“No, she won’t!” the child insisted, squirming against the arms that held her. “How will Mama be safe if I’m not here to protect her?!”

Oh, if only Herrah could simply throttle the Old Light herself, along with that Wyrm who angered Her into creating this mess. She would willingly face any battle head-on if it meant her daughter did not have to cry.

But the waking world was no less cruel than Dreams, and the dawn was approaching with too great a vengeance to risk such boldness.

Herrah reached out her arms, giving her Midwife a look to let her know that it was alright, that she could spare a moment longer. Midwife did not argue, did not scold her for her selfishness. She obediently relocated the child into Herrah’s arms and shuffled back to allow them some privacy.

“You will grow and train with the Hive when you’re older,” Herrah spoke, gently stroking the back of her daughter’s head. “And protect both kingdoms that gave you life – you will surely protect me during such times. Allow me to protect _you_ for a little while first.”

She could feel her daughter’s claws sink into the hem of her veil, still too small to do any real damage, but sharp with the promise of future threats. Herrah was proud; _oh, so proud_ of who her daughter would become.

“I don’t want you to leave,” the child sobbed, burying her face in the crook of Herrah’s neck. “I want you to stay with me.”

Herrah’s arms tightened around her, holding her as if letting go would mean doing so for the last time.

Because that’s exactly what it would be, wouldn’t it?

“I will always stay with you,” she whispered in response. “With every swish of your needle, or note of your thread, I will be there, braving the world by your side, in your claws, and in your heart.”

Herrah shifted her daughter in her grasp so that she might look at her face, six eyes meeting her child’s four. “Be strong, my Silksong. The world awaits the melody you will bring. And even beyond in Dreams, I too shall listen for it.”

She could promise at least this much.


	50. Regret This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghost, her beloved sibling (derogatory)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“Don’t make me regret this.”

Little Ghost looked up at Hornet with a look so innocent that she immediately knew she should never had handed them her needle to inspect. Her eyes narrowed in an obvious challenge, practically begging her smaller sibling to try anything funny.

So of course, without even another moment of hesitation, they dashed through the shadows and leaped out of the den, swinging her needle wildly in excitement.

She shouldn’t be surprised, not really. Of course their request to get a better look at her weapon was nothing more than a ploy to run off with it and pretend at some game to be a Weaver. Hornet groaned in exhausted resignation, grabbed the nearest spare needle she could find at the den’s entrance (a ceremonial ornament affixed to the wall as decoration), and leaped out into the dark of the Village to give her sibling chase.

Oh, she was quite literally going to kill them this time.


	51. Out of Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Midwife offers Herrah maternal support

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Jaxx
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation again.”

“You speak as if I _did_ expect this,” Herrah pointed out, her amusement at her friend’s antics softening the attempted hiss in her tone.

“You _are_ the one who decided to practically adopt the Vessel, are you not?” her Midwife asked, crossing multiple rows of her many, many legs. “Shouldn’t you have known this day might someday come?”

“I did not—” Herrah started, only to cut herself off, taking a calming breath. “I did not anticipate going through some of the same situations I faced when raising Hornet in her earlier years. I see now that such thinking was short-sighted on my part.”

“It was,” Midwife agreed, clicking sharply. “However, I’m not going to scold you for being unprepared. After all, it has been some time since Hornet was young, and it’s not as if the Vessel is a child.”

“But they are having to learn how to deal with their emotions as if they are,” Herrah muttered, faint anger tainting her words. Not at Hollow – she could never hold such frustrations against them – but rather at the parents who raised them to be so ignorant to basic instincts like _feeling_. “I am concerned that I am . . . out of practice in guiding them through these next years.”

Midwife hummed, a low hiss that rumbled through the whole of her. “I will gladly offer whatever advice or support you require, my Queen. But as your friend, I must emphasize that you cannot let conflicts fester without addressing them, no matter how unsure you are of yourself for handling them.”

“I know,” Herrah said, more tired sigh than anything. “I know. Thank you; I do not know what I would do without you.”

Midwife huffed, upper legs curling a bit proudly under her mask. “For starters, you would have a very cranky spider for a daughter without her weekly honey treats.”

Herrah couldn’t help but laugh in agreement at that.

Her Midwife, as always, was not wrong.


	52. Fix What They Broke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life returned to waking isn't always done perfectly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Ravie
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

It was bad again. Not as bad as the last time, but still bad enough to make Ghost feel sick with worry.

Their sibling’s void wasn’t stable, hadn’t been since their revival. Ghost knew it was their own fault, that something went wrong when they tried to reform the two siblings who wished to rejoin the world of the waking. Even though the void bent to their will and worked in tandem with their wishes, Ghost was still a far cry from _knowing_ how to use it with any level of expertise. One successful god-killing did not make a master.

And now their sibling suffered for it.

Their shell was too hot, yet their limbs trembled with shivers as if they were cold. Sometimes their body would even suddenly spasm, and Sheo had to hold Ghost back the first time it happened to keep them from attempting to hold the smaller vessel down out of fear they might hurt themself. Because apparently restraint would have only hurt them more.

They didn’t know what was wrong, or how to fix it. Only that there were small ways they could treat it, like lying close to them and letting their void hum softly against the other’s to soothe it into something more stable. And when even that wasn’t enough, they would turn to whatever normal bug remedies worked, like wrapping their sibling in blankets or putting a damp cloth over their mask.

That’s what they did now, a cooling cloth placed over their eye sockets while Ghost’s hand stroked one of their horns gently, void humming to the other in soft rhythms. It was all they could do; all they could offer. Until they learned better how to fix what they broke, and finally grant their siblings the lives they were owed – that they had stolen from both all too long ago.

At least it was something.


	53. Your Capable Possession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quiet moment of weaving is interrupted by chaos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Hallow
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“Did you hear that?”

Hollow looked up from their weaving, tilting their mask curiously in Herrah’s direction, as if asking for clarification. She was quiet for a moment, waiting to hear if the sound would repeat itself before another telltale crash from somewhere further in her Den sounded.

“That,” she stated, a bit dryly, yet not entirely harsh. “It appears your sibling and their charge might’ve come back from their adventuring.”

Hollow looked between Herrah and the door, keeping their gaze still until a third crash, much louder than the previous two, could be heard. Minutely, their shoulders shook as if in amusement. _How curious, that such sounds of menacing destruction could only be the tells of one thought of with nothing less than fondness?_

The vessels were all a bit remarkable like that, weren’t they?

“I will check that those two haven’t started any irreparable fires,” Herrah said, setting aside her silk and needles and rising to standing. “I trust you can handle matters here?”

Hollow looked up to her and gave a simple but assured nod.

“Then I leave our work in your capable possession,” she sighed, patting the top of one of their horns as she made to leave the room.

Herrah trusted that Hollow was more than sufficient to keep an eye on the progress of Hornet’s new shawl on their own. The rest of her Den, however, was not promised such safety. Not when excitable godlings ran amok amongst its halls.

Hopefully nothing was ablaze just yet.


	54. Silent Affirmation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment of comfort amidst exhaustion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Hallow
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

It had been a long day.

More accurately, it had been a long several days, but Brush didn’t want to have to think about all of them at once. Wasn’t remembering one bad day at a time enough as it were? They climbed out of their nest, rubbing at the places just below the eye holes of their mask, as if the motions could help them to feel more awake. It was worth pretending, at least.

“Ah, I see morning has finally come to you, little one,” they could hear their dad say from across the hut as he sat by the table, cup of tea in hand. “The little knight has gone out hunting and will be back before long. Were you able to sleep well this morning?”

Morning? Was it not already near the end of the day? Had they lost time yet again? This was becoming a frequent issue, and it filled them with something uncomfortable and heavy. Brush padded over to where Sheo sat and held up their arms to him – a request to be held. A request for distraction.

Sheo wasted no time in setting his tea aside and leaning down to lift them into his lap, holding them snugly against his thorax. “Do I take that to be a ‘no’, then?” he asked quietly.

Brush nodded their mask, burying their face into the ruff of his cloak.

He held them tightly, claws gently stroking the back of their mask in careful, soothing motions. Sheo didn’t say any words, rather just holding them and rocking them slowly from side-to-side. There could be _so many_ words left unspoken in that action. Assurances, condolences, whispers of care and promises of comfort. So many that anything verbal would simply not be able to encompass them all, and Brush thought that perhaps they might like it better this way.

They leaned into the hug, and contently allowed themself to drift back off into something close to slumber. No dreams would touch them there, no discomforts of past memories or present concerns. Just the safety of their father’s arms, and the silent affirmation that somehow, some way, everything would be alright.

Some warmths weren’t so terrible, in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brush is Greenpath Vessel, in case there is any confusion


	55. A Little Less Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comfort from a sister

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“Is everything okay?”

No, everything decidedly was not. But Ghost couldn’t tell their sister that, couldn’t give her someone else to worry about. They were fine – they always were, and something as silly as a sleepless night wasn’t going to change anything.

Of course, a simple shake of their mask wouldn’t be enough to convince their sister. It never would.

Hornet sat down beside them on the balcony overlooking the Village in Deepnest, her legs swaying slightly over the dark chasm below. “Was it a nightmare?” she asked.

Ghost shook their mask again; nightmares were hardly a thing that gave them trouble anymore.

Hornet nodded in what they could only assume was understanding. “Simply cannot sleep, then?”

They nodded, and their sister rested a gentle hand on their shoulder that somehow never made them jump in surprise.

“Would you like company, then?” she asked, holding their gaze with a look that would be near impossible to break.

It was a quiet moment before they responded, but eventually a nod of yes was given. Hornet settled herself a bit more comfortably at their side, crossing one leg under her while the other still swayed in open space.

She did not speak any more that night, not until Ghost rose to once again try and sleep. They appreciated that – the quiet their sister would offer them without complaint or suspicion. It made them feel a little less alone. It made them feel a little more loved.

Sometimes that was the best they would get when nights grew too still.


	56. Floating Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some thoughts can't be easily quieted, but company may help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

Shore looked up at the smaller vessel in what they hoped was obvious confusion when the hand was lifted from their mask.

“What was that for?” they asked, signing out of habit rather than attempting to speak with their void. When Ghost looked at them in likely equal amounts of a lack of understanding, they repeated the question through what the other clearly knew better.

“You looked . . . wrong,” their sibling answered. “Like you were floating away.”

Oh. They supposed that was probably true. This one was awfully perceptive, weren’t they? “I’m fine,” they told the other. “Just thinking.”

Ghost plopped down onto the makeshift nest next to them. “About what?” they asked, tilting their mask to the side.

Hmm, that was likely not an answer their sibling would like. “Many things,” Shore explained. “Too many to list.”

Ghost stared for a long moment; their gaze almost unnerving (if only because Shore knew all too well what that darkness in their eyes was capable of). “Have you tried writing them down?”

It was their turn again to look confused. “Why would I do that?”

“If you make a list, it might help you decide which thoughts should stay, and which should be thrown out.”

That . . . was an interesting suggestion. Shore wasn’t sure if it was brilliant or asinine, but the attempt at help was appreciated, nonetheless.

“I’ll give it a shot,” they told their sibling. “If you can find me some paper?”

Obligingly, Ghost rose to their feet, turning to exit the small guest room where Shore slept during their visit to their sibling’s home. “Be back soon,” they called, skipping down the hallway and into the dark of the spider’s Den.

They did not have to wait alone for long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shore is Broken Vessel in case it isn't clear


	57. Are you . . . ?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hollow tries for humor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Shay
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“Can I ask you something?”

Ghost looked up at their sibling, tilting their mask in question. “Yes,” they responded, doing their best to keep their hands steady so as not to give away their excitement at Hollow’s forwardness. “What is it?”

“Are you . . .” they paused, seeming to struggle with forming the word for a moment before their fingers settled on curving inwards and wiggling, as if they intended rip something’s limbs off.

Ghost stared at Hollow for a long time, their expression completely blank. “What?”

Lowering their mask a bit, as if in thought, Hollow repeated the question, but it still made entirely no sense to Ghost. They asked for clarification, and just as Ghost was starting to think Hollow might decide to drop the matter entirely, they reached forward and tapped their claws against Ghost’s foot in feather-light, repeated motions.

Which, naturally, caused them to shriek through their void and jump several feet into the air in alarm.

Once they were able to regain some level of composure, they turned to glare at their sibling, who was . . . were they _laughing?_

“What was _that?_ ” Ghost asked, waving their arms for added emphasis after completing their signs.

But Hollow wasn’t looking at them, too busy staring at the floor as their shoulders shook in their amusement. They gave a few “sorry’s”, but no further explanation as to what they just did.

Ghost would have been annoyed, would have likely pouted or thrown a fit or any other number of methods of showing displeasure, but the sight of their usually blank sibling showing such free emotion was . . . too much of a treasure to not cherish. They would let their sibling have their fun for now, whatever that fun might’ve been.

Ghost would just have to ask one of their other siblings about the action later.


	58. Mischief Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hornet and the child do not always see eye-to-eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Jaxx
> 
> AU: We Are Wide Awake Now

“What are you smiling about?”

The little nightmare child barely gave Hornet so much as a glance before they turned away from her and flew out of the kitchen and into the hallway, screeching wildly in their retreat. If they were hoping to be discrete, they were doing a poor job of it, and Hornet wasted no time in chasing after them, needle in hand.

Finding them in the darkened halls of the Den was no trouble with the way they always tried to light their path with small breaths of flame (thankfully they had since learned not to create anything larger and thus more dangerous around all the silk and webbing) but catching up with them was far more challenging than it should have been. Even with her familiarity and prowess in flight-by-silk-and-needle, the child was _fast_ , and Hornet was hard-pressed to keep them in her sights.

“If you do not stop this instant, I am going to tell Ghost you are causing mischief again!” Hornet shouted after them, throwing her needle and gliding down another hallway as the child just barely slipped past her claws yet again.

Perhaps her threats were not taken seriously, for the child did nothing more than cackle at her words and keep at their erratic escape. But they did not know these halls as well as Hornet, and when they would reach the end only to realize they’ve trapped themself between her and her mother’s quarters, the child would have no other choice but to surrender.

So of course, when that time came, the little terror _vanished out of sight_ without so much as an ember to announce their teleportation.

_Of all the cursed gods and godlings both above and under the earth._

As soon as Ghost arrived home again, they would be hearing about this. The child could not run from their escapades forever. And when they finally found themself caught in her web, Hornet was going to make sure they listened to her relish every moment of gloating over her victory.

What else was family for?


	59. Caution in the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had been a while since Grimm got to father his child a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Shay
> 
> AU: none

“Well, I see your adventures have been rather prolific of late.”

The child grumbled softly, curling themself more tightly into the crooks of Grimm’s arms as he carried them deeper into the tent to the room where they slept. A wing had been pierced, and based on the discoloration around the tip of their tail Grimm could assume there had been a nasty mishap with an acid pool. Troubles in Greenpath, perhaps?

A quiet rumble scraped its way up his throat. “I mean not to trivialize, my child, but I did warn you to tread carefully, did I not?”

Another grumble, the child turning over so that their back was now towards him.

Grimm sighed, absently stroking one of their horns. “Take this as a lesson for caution in the future, but we will see to those injuries for now.”

Treating the burns was a simple task. Though burns in the broad sense was not something the Troupe often dealt with in negatives, acid and fire were hardly of the same make. The torn wing, on the other hand, took a bit more time, and a great deal more fuss from the child.

“The more you hold still the sooner I will be done,” Grimm had told them, so of course the child squirmed all the more, likely out of some sort of naïve spite. He couldn’t hold that against them too harshly – torn wings were an agony, after all.

“Is that better?” he asked once the stitching had been complete, and soothing salve spread over the now-closed wound.

The child chirped their assent, twisting so that they rested in his lap more comfortably. With one hand returned to stroking their horn in soothing motions, and the other held up with a limp wing to shield the child from prying eyes that he knew they wouldn’t want to observe at this time, Grimm kept silent vigil, until the child drifted off into safer slumber.

The Troupe would be still this night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -WHEEZE- ok that's it of this huge backlog batch! Sorry again for the spam, it was just making me lose it to not have this handful posted.


End file.
